THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


"Mr.  Johnson,  come  down" 


The  Girl  of  the 
Golden  West 

NOVELIZED  FROM  THE  PLAY 


BY 

DAVID  BELASCO 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  BY 

J.  N.  MARGHAND 


GROSSET    &   DUNLAP 

PUBLISHERS        ::        NEW    YORK 


Copyright,  1911, 
iJY  DODD,  MEAD  &  Co. 

All  rtgMs  reserved 
Published,  October,  TQI» 


T-s 

IO85 


"  IN  those  strange  days,  people  coming  from 
God  knows  where,  joined  forces  in  that  far 
Western  land,  and,  according  to  the  rude  cus- 
tom of  the  camp,  their  very  names  were  soon 
lost  and  unrecorded,  and  here  they  struggled, 
laughed,  gambled,  cursed,  killed,  loved  and 
worked  out  their  strange  destinies  in  a  manner 
incredible  to  us  of  to-day.  Of  one  thing  only 
are  we  sure  —  they  lived!  " 

Early  History  of  California. 


IT  was  when  coming  back  to  the  mines,  after  a  trip 
to  Monterey,  that  the  Girl  first  met  him.  It  hap- 
pened, too,  just  at  a  time  when  her  mind  was  ripe  tc 
receive  a  lasting  impression.  But  of  all  this  the  boys 
of  Cloudy  Mountain  Camp  heard  not  a  word,  need- 
less to  say,  until  long  afterwards. 

Lolling  back  on  the  rear  seat  of  the  stage,  her 
eyes  half  closed, —  the  sole  passenger  now,  and  with 
the  seat  in  front  piled  high  with  boxes  and  baskets 
containing  rebozos,  silken  souvenirs,  and  other  finery 
purchased  in  the  shops  of  the  old  town, —  the  Girl 
was  mentally  reviewing  and  dreaming  of  the  delights 
of  her  week's  visit  there, —  a  visit  that  had  been  a 
revelation  to  one  whose  sole  experience  of  the  world 
had  until  now  been  derived  from  life  in  a  rough  min- 
ing camp.  Before  her  half-closed  eyes  still  shim- 
mered a  vista  of  strange,  exotic  scenes  and  people, 
the  thronging  crowds  of  carnivals  and  fetes;  the 
Mexican  girls  swaying  through  the  movements  of  the 
fandango  to  the  music  of  guitars  and  castanets;  the 
great  rodeo  with  its  hundreds  of  vaqueros,  which 
was  held  at  one  of  the  ranches  just  outside  the  town; 
and,  lastly,  and  most  vividly  of  all,  the  never-to-be- 
forgotten  thrill  of  her  first  bull-fight. 

Still  ringing  in  her  ears  was  the  piercing  note  of  the 


2         GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

bugle  which  instantly  silenced  the  expectant  throng; 
the  hoarse  roar  that  greeted  the  entrance  of  the  bull, 
and  the  thunder  of  his  hoofs  when  he  made  his  first 
mad  charge.  She  saw  again,  with  marvellous  fidel- 
ity, the  whole  colour-scheme  just  before  the  death 
of  the  big,  brave  beast:  the  huge  arena  in  its  un- 
rivalled setting  of  mountain,  sea  and  sky;  the  eager 
multitude,  tense  with  expectancy;  the  silver-mounted 
bridles  and  trappings  of  the  horses;  the  many-hued 
capes  of  the  capadors;  the  gaily-dressed  banderil- 
ieros,  poising  their  beribboned  barbs;  the  red  flag  and 
long,  slender,  flashing  sword  of  the  cool  and  ever 
watchful  matador;  and,  most  prominent  of  all  to  her 
eyes,  the  brilliant,  gold-laced  packets  of  the  gentle- 
men-picadors,  who,  after  the  Mexican  fashion, —  so 
she  had  been  told, —  deemed  it  in  nowise  beneath 
them  to  enter  the  arena  in  person. 

And  so  it  happened  that  now,  as  the  stage  swung 
round  a  corner,  and  a  horseman  suddenly  appeared 
at  a  point  where  two  roads  converged,  and  was  evi- 
dently spurring  his  horse  with  the  intent  of  coming 
up  with  the  stage,  it  was  only  natural  that,  even  be- 
fore he  was  near  enough  to  be  identified,  the  cabal- 
lero  should  already  have  become  a  part  of  the  pag- 
eant of  her  mental  picture. 

Up  to  the  moment  of  the  stranger's  appearance, 
nothing  had  happened  to  break  the  monotony  of  her 
long  return  journey  towards  Cloudy  Mountain 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST          3 

Camp.  Far  back  in  the  distance  now  lay  the  Mis- 
sion where  the  passengers  of  the  stage  had  been 
hospitably  entertained  the  night  before;  still  further 
back  the  red-tiled  roofs  and  whitewashed  walls  of 
the  little  pueblo  of  San  Jose, —  a  veritable  bower  of 
roses;  and  remotest  of  all,  the  crosses  of  San  Carlos 
and  the  great  pines,  oaks  and  cypresses,  which  bor- 
dered her  dream-memory  of  the  white-beach  crescent 
formed  by  the  waves  of  Monterey  Bay. 

The  dawn  of  each  day  that  swept  her  further  from 
her  week  in  wonderland  had  ushered  in  the  match- 
less spring  weather  of  California, —  the  brilliant  sun- 
shine, the  fleecy  clouds,  the' gentle  wind  with  just  a 
tang  in  it  from  the  distant  mountains;  and  as  the 
stage  rolled  slowly  northward  through  beautiful 
valleys,  bright  with  yellow  poppies  and  silver-white 
lupines,  every  turn  of  the  road  varied  her  view  of  the 
hills  lying  under  an  enchantment  unlike  that  of  any 
other  land.  Yet  strange  and  full  of  interest  as  every 
mile  of  the  river  country  should  have  been  to  a  girl 
accustomed  to  the  great  forest  of  the  Sierras,  she  had 
gazed  upon  it  for  the  most  part  with  unseeing  eyes, 
while  her  thoughts  turned,  magnet-like,  backward  to 
the  delights  and  the  bewilderment  of  the  old  Mexi- 
can town.  So  now,  as  the  pursuing  horseman  swept 
rapidly  nearer,  each  swinging  stride  of  the  powerful 
horse,  each  rhythmic  movement  of  the  graceful  rider 
brought  nearer  and  more  vivid  the  vision  of  a  hand- 


4         GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

some  picador  holding  off  with  his  lance  a  thoroughly 
maddened  bull  until  the  crowd  roared  forth  its  ap- 
preciation. 

"  See,  Senorita,"  said  the  horseman,  at  last  gal- 
loping close  to  the  coach  and  lifting  his  sombrero, 
"  A  beautiful  bunch  of  syringa,"  and  then,  with  his 
face  bent  towards  her  and  his  voice  full  of  appeal, 
he  added  in  lower  tone :  "  for  you !  " 

For  a  brief  second,  the  Girl  was  too  much  taken 
back  to  find  the  adequate  words  with  which  to  accept 
the  stranger's  offering.  Notwithstanding  that  in  his 
glance  she  could  read,  as  plainly  as  though  he  had 
spoken :  "  I  know  I  am  taking  a  liberty,  but  please 
don't  be  angry  with  me,"  there  was  something  in  his 
sweeping  bow  and  grace  of  manner  that,  coupled 
with  her  vague  sense  of  his  social  advantage,  discon- 
certed her.  A  second  more,  however,  and  the  em- 
barrassment had  passed,  for  on  lifting  her  eyes  to  his 
again  she  saw  that  her  memory  had  not  played  her 
false ;  beyond  all  chance  of  a  mistake,  he  was  the  man 
who,  ten  days  earlier,  had  peered  into  the  stage,  as 
she  was  nearing  Monterey,  and  later,  at  the  bull- 
fight, had  found  time  to  shoot  admiring  glances  at 
her  between  his  daring  feats  of  horsemanship. 
Therefore,  genuine  admiration  was  in  her  eyes  and 
extreme  cordiality  in  her  voice  when,  after  a  word 
or  two  of  thanks,  she  added,  with  great  frankness : 

"  But  it  strikes  me  sort  o'  forcible  that  I've  seen 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST          5 

you  before."  Then,  with  growing  enthusiasm: 
"  My,  but  that  bull-fight  was  jest  grand !  You  were 
fine  I  I'm  right  glad  to  know  you,  sir." 

The  caballero's  face  flushed  with  pleasure  at  her 
free-and-easy  reception  of  him,  while  an  almost  in- 
audible "  Gracias  "  fell  from  his  lips.  At  once  he 
knew  that  his  first  surmise,  that  the  Girl  was  an 
American,  had  been  correct.  Not  that  his  experi- 
ence in  life  had  furnished  him  with  any  parallel,  for 
the  Girl  constituted  a  new  and  unique  type.  But  he 
was  well  aware  that  no  Spanish  lady  would  have  re- 
ceived the  advances  of  a  stranger  in  like  fashion. 
It  was  inevitable,  therefore,  that  for  the  moment  he 
should  contrast,  and  not  wholly  to  her  advantage,  the 
Girl's  unconventionality  with  the  enforced  reserve 
of  the  dulcineas  who,  custom  decrees,  may  not  be 
courted  save  in  the  presence  of  duennas.  But  the 
next  instant  he  recalled  that  there  were,  in  Sacra- 
mento, young  women  whose  directness  it  would  never 
do  to  mistake  for  boldness;  and, —  to  his  credit  be 
it  said, —  he  was  quick  to  perceive  that,  however  in- 
different the  Girl  seemed  to  the  customary  formality 
of  introduction,  there  was  no  suggestion  of  indelicacy 
about  her.  All  that  her  frank  and  easy  manner  sug- 
gested was  that  she  was  a  child  of  nature,  spontane- 
ous and  untrammelled  by  the  dictates  of  society,  and 
normally  and  healthily  at  home  in  the  company  of  the 
opposite  sex. 


6         GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

"  And  she  is  even  more  beautiful  than  I  sup- 
posed," was  the  thought  that  went  through  his  mind. 

And  yet,  the  Girl  was  not  beautiful,  at  least  if 
judged  by  Spanish  or  Californian  standards.  Un- 
like most  of  their  women,  she  was  fair,  and  her  type 
purely  American.  Her  eyes  of  blue  were  lightly 
but  clearly  browed  and  abundantly  fringed;  her  hair 
of  burnished  gold  was  luxuriant  and  wavy,  and 
framed  a  face  of  singularly  frank  and  happy  expres- 
sion, even  though  the  features  lacked  regularity. 
But  it  was  a  face,  so  he  told  himself,  that  any  man 
would  trust,—  a  face  that  would  make  a  man  the 
better  for  looking  at  it, —  a  face  which  reflected  a 
soul  that  no  environment  could  make  other  than  pure 
and  spotless.  And  so  there  was,  perhaps,  a  shade 
more  of  respect  and  a  little  less  assurance  in  his  man- 
ner when  he  asked : 

"  And  you  like  Monterey?  " 

"  I  love  it!  Ain't  it  romantic  —  an',  my,  what  a 
fine  time  the  girls  there  must  have !  " 

The  man  laughed;  the  Girl's  enthusiasm  amused 
him. 

"  Have  you  had  a  fine  trip  so  far?  "  he  asked,  for 
want  of  something  better  to  say. 

"  Mercy,  yes !  This  'ere  stage  is  a  pokey  ol' 
thing,  but  we've  made  not  bad  time,  considerin'." 

"  I  thought  you  were  never  going  to  get  here !  " 

The  Girl  shot  a  coquettish  glance  at  him. 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST          7 

"  How  did  you  know  I  was  comin'  on  this  'ere 
stage?" 

"  I  did  not  know," —  the  stranger  broke  off  and 
thought  a  moment.  He  may  have  been  asking  him- 
self whether  it  were  best  for  him  to  be  as  frank  as 
she  had  been  and  admit  his  admiration  for  her;  at 
last,  encouraged  perhaps  by  a  look  in  the  Girl's  blue 
eyes,  he  ventured:  "  But  I've  been  riding  along  this 
road  every  day  since  I  saw  you.  I  felt  that  I  must 
see  you  again." 

"  You  must  like  me  powerful  well  ...  ?  " 
This  remark,  far  from  being  a  question,  was  accom- 
panied with  all  the  physiognomical  evidences  of  an 
assertion. 

The  stranger  shot  a  surprised  glance  at  her,  out 
of  the  corner  of  his  eye.  Then  he  admitted,  in  all 
truthfulness: 

"  Of  course  I  do.     Who  could  help     .     .     .?" 

"Have  you  tried  not  to?"  questioned  the  Girl, 
smiling  in  his  face  now,  and  enjoying  in  the  full  this 
stolen  intimacy. 

"  Ah,  Senorita,  why  should  I  ...  ?  All  I 
know  is  that  I  do." 

The  Girl  became  reflective;  presently  she  ob- 
served : 

"  How  funny  it  seems,  an'  yet,  p'r'aps  not  so 
strange  after  all.  The  boys  —  all  my  boys  at  the 
camp  like  me  —  I'm  glad  you  do,  too." 


8         GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

Meanwhile  the  good-natured  and  loquaciously-in- 
clined driver  had  turned  his  head  and  was  subjecting 
the  man  cantering  alongside  of  his  stage  to  a  rigid 
inspection.  With  his  knowledge  of  the  various 
types  of  men  in  California  at  that  time,  he  had  no 
difficulty  in  placing  the  status  of  this  straight-limbed, 
broad-shouldered,  young  fellow  as  a  native  Califor- 
nian.  Moreover,  it  made  no  difference  to  him 
whether  his  passenger  had  met  an  old  acquaintance 
or  not;  it  was  sufficient  for  him  to  observe  that  the 
lady,  as  well  as  himself  —  for  the  expression  on  her 
face  could  by  no  means  be  described  as  bored  or 
scornful  —  liked  the  stranger's  appearance;  and  so 
the  better  to  take  in  all  the  points  of  the  magnificent 
horse  which  the  young  Californian  was  riding,  not 
to  mention  a  commendable  desire  to  give  his  only 
passenger  a  bit  of  pleasant  diversion  on  the  long 
journey,  he  slowed  his  horse  down  to  a  walk. 

"  But  where  do  you  live  ?  You  have  a  rancho 
near  here?"  the  Girl  was  now  asking. 

"  My  father  has  —  I  live  with  him." 

"  Any  sisters?  " 

"  No, —  no  sisters  or  brothers.  My  mother  was 
an  American;  she  died  a  few  years  ago."  And  so 
saying,  his  glance  sought  and  obtained  an  answering 
one  full  of  sympathy. 

"  I'm  downright  sorry  for  you,"  said  the  Girl  with 
feeling;  and  then  in  the  next  breath  she  added: 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST          9 

"  But  I'm  pleased  you're  —  you're  half  Ameri- 
can." 

"  And  you,  Senorita?  " 

"  I'm  an  orphan  —  my  family  are  all  dead,"  re- 
plied the  Girl  in  a  low  voice.  "  But  I  have  my 
boys,"  she  went  on  more  cheerfully,  "  an'  what  more 
do  I  need?  "  And  then  before  he  had  time  to  ask 
her  to  explain  what  she  meant  by  the  boys,  she  cried 
out:  "  Oh,  jest  look  at  them  wonderful  berries  over 
yonder  I  La,  how  I  wish  I  could  pick  'em !  " 

"  Perhaps  you  may,"  the  stranger  hastened  to  say, 
and  instantly  with  his  free  hand  he  made  a  move- 
ment to  assist  her  to  alight,  while  with  the  other  he 
checked  his  horse ;  then,  with  his  eyes  resting  appeal- 
ingly  upon  the  driver,  he  inquired :  "  It  is  possible, 
is  it  not,  Senor?  " 

Curiously  enough,  this  apparently  proper  request 
was  responsible  for  changing  the  whole  aspect  of 
things.  For,  keenly  desirous  to  oblige  him,  though 
she  was,  there  was  something  in  the  stranger's  eyes 
as  they  now  rested  upon  her  that  made  her  feel  sud- 
denly shy;  a  flood  of  new  impressions  assailed  her: 
she  wanted  to  evade  the  look  and  yet  foster  it;  but 
the  former  impulse  was  the  stronger,  and  for  the 
first  time  she  was  conscious  of  a  growing  feeling  of 
restraint.  Indeed,  some  inner  voice  told  her  that 
it  would  not  be  quite  right  for  her  to  leave  the  stage. 
True,  she  belonged  to  Cloudy  Mountain  Camp 


io       GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

where  the  conventions  were  unknown  and  where  a 
rough,  if  kind,  comradery  existed  between  the 
miners  and  herself;  nevertheless,  she  felt  that  she 
had  gone  far  enough  with  a  new  acquaintance,  whose 
accent,  as  well  as  the  timbre  of  his  voice,  gave  ample 
evidence  that  he  belonged  to  another  order  of  so- 
ciety than  her  own  and  that  of  the  boys.  So,  hard 
though  it  was  not  to  accede  to  his  request  and,  at 
the  same  time,  break  the  monotony  of  her  journey 
with  a  few  minutes  of  berry-picking  with  him  in  the 
fields,  she  made  no  move  to  leave  the  stage  but  an- 
swered the  questioning  look  of  the  obliging  driver 
with  a  negative  one.  Whereupon,  the  latter,  after 
declaring  to  the  young  Californian  that  the  stage 
was  late  as  it  was,  called  to  his  horses  to  show  what 
they  could  do  in  the  way  of  getting  over  the  ground 
after  their  long  rest. 

The  young  man's  face  clouded  with  disappoint- 
ment. For  two  hundred  yards  or  more  h,e  spoke 
not  a  word,  though  he  spurred  his  horse  in  order  to 
keep  up  with  the  now  fast-moving  stage.  Then,  all 
of  a  sudden,  as  the  silence  between  them  was  be- 
ginning to  grow  embarrassing,  the  Girl  made  out  the 
figure  of  a  man  on  horseback  a  short  distance  ahead, 
and  uttered  an  exclamation  of  surprise.  The 
stranger  followed  the  direction  of  the  Girl's  eyes 
and,  almost  instantly,  it  was  borne  in  upon  them 
that  the  horseman  awaited  their  coming.  The  Girl 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST        n 

turned  to  speak,  but  the  tender,  sorrowful  expression 
that  she  saw  on  the  young  man's  face  kept  her  silent. 

"  That  is  one  of  my  father's  men,"  he  said,  some* 
what  solemnly.  "  His  presence  here  may  mean  that 
I  must  leave  you.  The  road  to  our  ranch  begins 
there.  I  fear  that  something  may  be  wrong." 

The  Girl  shot  him  a  look  of  sympathetic  inquiry, 
though  she  said  nothing.  To  tell  the  truth,  the  first 
thought  that  entered  her  mind  at  his  words  was  one 
of  concern  that  their  companionship  was  likely  to 
cease  abruptly.  During  the  silence  that  preceded 
his  outspoken  premonition  of  trouble,  she  had  been 
studying  him  closely.  She  found  herself  admiring 
his  aquiline  features,  his  olive-coloured  skin  with  its 
healthful  pallor,  the  lazy,  black  Spanish  eyes  behind 
which,  however  tranquil  they  generally  were,  it  was 
easy  for  her  to  discern,  when  he  smiled,  that  reck- 
less and  indomitable  spirit  which  appeals  to  women 
all  the  world  over. 

As  the  stage  approached  the  motionless  horseman, 
the  young  man  cried  out  to  the  vaquero,  for  such  he 
was,  and  asked  in  Spanish  whether  he  had  a  message 
for  him;  an  answer  came  back  in  the  same  language, 
the  meaning  of  which  the  Girl  failed  to  comprehend. 
A  moment  later  her  companion  turned  to  her  and 
said: 

"  It  is  as  I  feared." 

Once  more  a  silence  fell  upon  them.     For  a  half 


12       GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

mile  or  so,  apparently  deep  In  thought,  he  continued 
to  canter  at  her  side;  at  last  he  spoke  what  was  in  his 
mind. 

"  I  hate  to  leave  you,  Senorita,"  he  said. 

In  an  instant  the  light  went  out  of  the  Girl's  eyes, 
and  her  face  was  as  serious  as  his  own  when  she  re- 
plied: 

"  Well,  I  guess  I  ain't  particularly  crazy  to  have 
you  go  neither." 

The  unmistakable  note  of  regret  in  the  Girl's  voice 
flattered  as  well  as  encouraged  him  to  go  further  and 
ask: 

"  Will  you  think  of  me  some  time?  " 

The  Girl  laughed. 

"  What's  the  good  o'  my  thinkin'  o'  you  ?  I  seen 
you  talkin'  with  them  gran'  Monterey  ladies  an'  I 
guess  you  won't  be  thinkin'  often  o'  me.  Like  's 
not  by  to-morrow  you'll  'ave  clean  forgot  me,"  she 
said  with  forced  carelessness. 

"  I  shall  never  forget  you,"  declared  the  young 
man  with  the  intense  fervour  that  comes  so  easily  to 
the  men  of  his  race. 

At  that  a  half-mistrustful,  half-puzzled  look 
crossed  the  Girl's  face.  Was  this  handsome  stranger 
finding  her  amusing?  There  was  almost  a  resentful 
glitter  in  her  eyes  when  she  cried  out: 

"  I  'mos'  think  you're  makin'  fun  o'  me !  " 

"  No,  Imean  every  word  that  I  say,"  he  hastened 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST        13 

to  assure  her,  looking  straight  into  her  eyes  where 
he  could  scarcely  have  failed  to  read  something 
which  the  Girl  had  not  the  subtlety  to  conceal. 

"  Oh,  I  guess  I  made  you  say  that!-  "  she  returned, 
making  a  child-like  effort  to  appear  to  disbelieve 
him. 

The  stranger  could  not  suppress  a  smile;  but  the 
next  moment  he  was  serious,  and  asked: 

"  And  am  I  never  going  to  see  you  again?  Won't 
you  tell  me  where  I  can  find  you  ?  " 

Once  more  the  Girl  was  conscious  of  a  feeling  of 
embarrassment.  Not  that  she  was  at  all  ashamed 
of  being  "  The  Girl  of  The  Polka  Saloon,"  for  that 
never  entered  her  mind;  but  she  suddenly  realised 
that  it  was  one  thing  to  converse  pleasantly  with  a 
young  man  on  the  highway  and  another  to  let  him 
come  to  her  home  on  Cloudy  Mountain.  Only  too 
well  could  she  imagine  the  cool  reception,  if  it 
stopped  at  that,  that  the  boys  of  the  camp  there 
would  accord  to  this  stylish  stranger.  As  a  conse- 
quence, she  was  torn  by  conflicting  emotions :  an 
overwhelming  desire  to  see  him  again,  and  a  dread 
of  what  might  happen  to  him  should  he  descend 
upon  Cloudy  Mountain  with  all  his  fine  airs  and 
graces. 

"  I  guess  I'm  queer  — "  she  began  uncertainly 
and  then  stopped  in  sudden  surprise.  Too  long  had 
she  delayed  her  answer.  Already  the  stage  had  left 


i4       GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

him  some  distance  behind.  Unperceived  by  her  a 
shade  of  annoyance  had  passed  over  the  Californi- 
an's  face  at  her  seeming  reluctance  to  tell  him  where 
she  lived.  The  quick  of  his  Spanish  pride  was 
touched;  and  with  a  wave  of  his  sombrero  he  had 
pulled  his  horse  down  on  his  haunches.  Of  no  avail 
now  was  her  resolution  to  let  him  know  the  where- 
abouts of  the  camp  at  any  cost,  for  already  his 
"  Adios,  Senorita"  was  sounding  faintly  in  her  ears. 
With  a  little  cry  of  vexation,  scarcely  audible,  the 
young  woman  flung  herself  back  on  the  seat.  She 
was  only  a  girl  with  all  a  girl's  ways,  and  like  most 
of  her  sex,  however  practical  her  life  thus  far,  she 
was  not  without  dreams  of  a  romance.  This  meet- 
ing with  the  handsome  caballero  was  the  nearest  she 
had  come  to  having  one.  True,  there  was  scarcely 
a  man  at  Cloudy  but  what  had  tried  at  one  time  or 
another  to  go  beyond  the  stage  of  good  comrade- 
ship; but  none  of  them  had  approached  the  idealistic 
vision  of  the  hero  that  was  all  the  time  lying  dormant 
in  her  mind.  Of  course,  being  a  girl,  and  almost  a 
queen  in  her  own  little  sphere,  she  accepted  their 
rough  homage  in  a  manner  that  was  befitting  to  such 
an  exalted  personage,  and  gave  nothing  in  return. 
But  now  something  was  stirring  within  her  of  which 
she  knew  nothing;  a  feeling  was  creeping  over  her 
that  she  could  not  analyse;  she  was  conscious  only 
of  the  fact  that  with  the  departure  of  this  attractive 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST        15 

stranger,  who  had  taken  no  pains  to  conceal  his  ad- 
miration for  her,  her  journey  had  been  robbed  of  all 
its  joy. 

A  hundred  yards  further  on,  therefore,  she  could 
not  resist  the  temptation  to  put  her  head  out  of  the 
stage  and  look  back  at  the  place  where  she  had  last 
seen  him. 

He  was  still  sitting  quietly  on  his  horse  at  the 
place  where  they  had  parted  so  unceremoniously,  his 
face  turned  in  her  direction  —  horse  and  rider  sil- 
houetted against  the  western  sky  which  showed  a 
crimson  hue  below  a  greenish  blue  that  was  sapphire 
further  from  the  horizon. 


II 

NOT  until  a  turn  of  the  road  hid  the  stage  from 
sight  did  the  stranger  fix  his  gaze  elsewhere.  Even 
then  it  was  not  easy  for  him,  and  there  had  been  a 
moment  when  he  was  ready  to  throw  everything  to 
the  winds  and  follow  it.  But  when  on  the  point  of 
doing  so  there  suddenly  flashed  through  his  mind  the 
thought  of  the  summons  that  he  had  received.  And 
so,  not  unlike  one  who  had  come  to  the  conclusion 
that  it  was  indeed  a  farewell,  he  waved  his  hand  re- 
signedly in  the  direction  that  the  stage  had  taken  and, 
calling  to  his  vaquero,  he  gave  his  horse  a  thrust  of 
the  long  rowel  of  his  spur  and  galloped  off  towa] 
the  foothills  of  the  Sierras. 

For  some  miles  the  riders  travelled  a  road  whi< 
wound  through  beautiful  green  fields;  but  master  and 
man  were  wholly  indifferent,  seeing  neither  the  wild 
flowers  lining  each  side  of  the  road  nor  the  sycamores 
and  live  oaks  which  were  shining  overhead  from  the 
recent  rains.  In  the  case  of  the  young  man  every 
foot  of  the  way  to  his  father's  rancho  was  familiar. 
All  hours  of  the  day  and  night  he  had  made  the  trip 
to  the  highway,  for  with  the  exception  of  the  few 
years  that  had  been  given  to  his  education  in  foreign 
lands,  his  whole  life  had  been  passed  on  the  rancho. 
Scarcely  less  acquainted  with  the  road  than  his  young 
16 


>L    Ul 

ards 
'hich 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST        17 

master  was  the  vaquero,  so  neither  gave  a  glance  at 
the  country  through  which  they  were  passing,  but 
side  by  side  took  the  miles  in  silence. 

An  hour  passed  with  the  young  man  still  wrapt  in 
thought.  The  truth  was,  though  he  was  scarcely 
ready  to  admit  it,  he  had  been  hard  hit.  In  more 
ways  than  one  the  Girl  had  made  a  deep  impression 
on  him.  Not  only  had  her  appearance  awakened  his 
interest  to  the  point  of  enthusiasm,  but  there  was 
something  irresistibly  attractive  to  him  in  her  lack  of 
affectation  and  audacious  frankness.  Over  and  over 
again  he  thought  of  her  happy  face,  her  straightfor- 
ward way  of  looking  at  things  and,  last  but  not  least, 
her  evident  pleasure  in  meeting  him.  J\nd  when  he 
reflected  on  the  hopelessness  of  their  ever  meeting 
again,  a  feeling  of  depression  seized  him.  But  his 
nature  —  always  a  buoyant  one  —  did  not  permit 
him  to  remain  downcast  very  long. 

By  this  time  they  were  nearing  the  foothills.  A 
little  while  longer  and  the  road  that  they  were  trav- 
elling became  nothing  more  than  a  bridle  path.  In- 
deed, so  dense  did  the  chaparral  presently  become 
that  it  would  have  been  utterly  impossible  for  one 
unacquainted  with  the  way  to  keep  on  it.  Animal 
life  was  to  be  seen  everywhere.  At  the  approach  of 
the  riders  innumerable  rabbits  scurried  away;  quail 
whirred  from  bush  to  bush;  and,  occasionally,  a  deer 
broke  from  the  thickets. 


1 8        GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

At  the  end  of  another  hour  of  hard  riding  they 
were  forced  to  slacken  their  pace.  In  front  of  them 
the  ground  could  be  seen,  in  the  light  of  a  fast  disap- 
pearing moon,  to  be  gradually  rising.  Another  mile 
or  two  and  vertical  walls  of  rock  rose  on  each  side 
of  them;  while  great  ravines,  holding  mountain  tor- 
rents, necessitated  their  making  a  short  detour  for 
the  purpose  of  finding  a  place  where  the  stream  could 
be  safely  forded.  Even  then  it  was  not  an  easy  task 
on  account  of  the  boulder-enclosing  whirlpools  whose 
waters  were  whipped  into  foam  by  the  wind  that 
swept  through  the  forest. 

At  a  point  of  the  road  where  there  was  a  break 
in  the  chaparral,  a  voice  suddenly  cried  out  in 
Spanish  : 

"  Who  comes?  " 

"  Follow  us !  "  was  the  quick  answer  without  draw- 
ing rein;  and,  instantly,  on  recognition  of  the  young 
master's  voice,  a  mounted  sentinel  spurred  his  horse 
out  from  behind  an  overhanging  rock  and  closed  in 
behind  them.  And  as  they  were  challenged  thus  sev- 
eral times,  it  happened  that  presently  there  was  quite 
a  little  band  of  men  pushing  ahead  in  the  darkness 
that  had  fallen. 

And  so  another  hour  passed.  Then,  suddenly, 
there  sprung  into  view  the  dark  outlines  of  a  low 
structure  which  proved  to  be  a  corral,  and  finally 
they  made  their  way  through  a  gate  and  came  upon 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST        19 

a  long  adobe  house,  situated  in  a  large  clearing  and 
having  a  kind  of  courtyard  in  front  of  it. 

In  the  centre  of  this  courtyard  was  what  evidently 
had  once  been  a  fountain,  though  it  had  long  since 
dried  up.  Around  it  squatted  a  group  of  vaqueros, 
all  smoking  cigarettes  and  some  of  them  lazily  twist- 
ing lariats  out  of  horsehair.  Close  at  hand  a  dozen 
or  more  wiry  little  mustangs  stood  saddled  and  bri- 
dled and  ready  for  any  emergency.  In  colour,  one 
or  two  were  of  ?  peculiar  cream  and  had  silver  white 
manes,  but  the  rest  were  greys  and  chestnuts.  It  was 
evident  that  they  had  great  speed  and  bottom.  All 
in  all,  what  with  the  fierce  and  savage  faces  of  the 
men  scattered  about  the  courtyard,  the  remoteness 
of  the  adobe,  and  the  care  taken  to  guard  against  sur- 
prise, old  Bartolini's  hacienda  was  an  establishment 
not  unlike  that  of  the  feudal  barons  or  a  nest  of  ban- 
ditti according  to  the  point  of  view. 

At  the  sound  of  the  fast  galloping  horses,  every 
man  on  the  ground  sprang  to  his  feet  and  ran  to  his 
horse.  For  a  second  only  they  stood  still  and  list- 
ened intently;  then,  satisfied  that  all  was  well  and 
that  the  persons  approaching  belonged  to  the  rancho, 
they  returned  to  their  former  position  by  the  foun- 
tain —  all  save  an  Indian  servant,  who  caught  the 
bridle  thrown  to  him  by  the  young  man  as  he  swung 
himself  out  of  the  saddle.  And  while  this  one  led 
his  horse  noiselessly  away,  another  of  the  same  race 


20       GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

preceded  him  along  a  corridor  until  he  came  to  the 
Maestro' s  room. 

Old  Ramerrez  Bartolini,  or  Ramerrez,  as  he  was 
known  to  his  followers,  was  dying.  His  hair,  pure 
white  and  curly,  was  still  as  luxuriant  as  when  he  was 
a  young  man.  Beneath  the  curls  was  a  patrician, 
Spanish  face,  straight  nose  and  brilliant,  piercing, 
black  eyes.  His  gigantic  frame  lay  on  a  heap  of 
stretched  rawhides  which  raised  him  a  few  inches 
from  the  floor.  This  simple  couch  was  not  necessa- 
rily an  indication  of  poverty,  though  his  property 
had  dwindled  to  almost  nothing,  for  in  most  Spanish 
adobes  of  that  time,  even  in  some  dwellings  of  the 
very  rich,  there  were  no  beds.  Over  him,  as  well  as 
under  him,  were  blankets.  On  each  side  of  his  head, 
fixed  on  the  wall,  two  candles  were  burning,  and  al- 
most within  reach  of  his  hand  there  stood  a  rough 
altar,  with  crucifix  and  candles,  where  a  padre  was 
making  preparations  to  administer  the  Last  Sacra- 
ments. 

In  the  low-studded  room  the  only  evidence  remain- 
ing of  prosperity  were  some  fragments  of  rich  and 
costly  goods  that  once  had  been  piled  up  there.  In 
former  times  the  old  Spaniard  had  possessed  these  in 
profusion,  but  little  was  left  now.  Indeed,  whatever 
property  he  had  at  the  present  time  was  wholly  in 
cattle  and  horses,  and  even  these  were  comparatively 
few. 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST        21 

There  had  been  a  period,  not  so  very  long  ago  at 
that,  when  old  Ramerrez  was  a  power  in  the  land. 
In  all  matters  pertaining  to  the  province  of  Alta  Cal- 
ifornia his  advice  was  eagerly  sought,  and  his  opin- 
ion carried  great  weight  in  the  councils  of  the  Span- 
iards. Later,  under  the  Mexican  regime,  the  re- 
spect in  which  his  name  was  held  was  scarcely  less; 
but  with  the  advent  of  the  Americanos  all  this  was 
changed.  Little  by  little  he  lost  his  influence,  and 
nothing  could  exceed  the  hatred  which  he  felt  for  the 
race  that  he  deemed  to  be  responsible  for  his  down- 
fall. 

It  was  odd,  in  a  way,  too,  for  he  had  married  an 
American  girl,  the  daughter  of  a  sea  captain  who  had 
visited  the  coast,  and  for  many  years  he  had  held  her 
memory  sacred.  And,  curiously  enough,  it  was  be- 
cause of  this  enmity,  if  indirectly,  that  much  of  his 
fortune  had  been  wasted. 

Fully  resolved  that  England  —  even  France  or 
Russia,  so  long  as  Spain  was  out  of  the  question  — 
should  be  given  an  opportunity  to  extend  a  protecto- 
rate over  his  beloved  land,  he  had  sent  emissaries  to 
Europe  and  supplied  them  with  moneys  —  far  more 
than  he  could  afford  —  to  give  a  series  of  lavish  en- 
tertainments at  which  the  wonderful  richness  and  fer- 
tility of  California  could  be  exploited.  At  one  time 
it  seemed  as  if  his  efforts  in  that  direction  would  meet 
with  success.  His  plan  had  met  with  such  favour 


22       GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

from  the  authorities  in  the  City  of  Mexico  that  Gov- 
ernor Pico  had  been  instructed  by  them  to  issue  a 
grant  for  several  million  of  acres.  But  the  United 
States  Government  was  quick  to  perceive  the  hidden 
meaning  in  the  extravagances  of  these  envoys  in  Lon- 
don, and  in  the  end  all  that  was  accomplished  was  the 
hastening  of  the  inevitable  American  occupation. 

From  that  time  on  it  is  most  difficult  to  imagine 
the  zeal  with  which  he  endorsed  the  scheme  of  the 
native  Californians  for  a  republic  of  their  own.  He 
was  a  leader  when  the  latter  made  their  attack  on  the 
Americans  in  Sonoma  County  and  were  repulsed  with 
the  loss  of  several  killed.  One  of  these  was  Ramer- 
rez'  only  brother,  who  was  the  last,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  himself  and  son,  of  a  proud,  old,  Spanish 
family.  It  was  a  terrible  blow,  and  increased,  if 
possible,  his  hatred  for  the  Americans.  Later  the 
old  man  took  part  in  the  battle  of  San  Pasquale  and 
the  Mesa.  In  the  last  engagement  he  was  badly 
wounded,  but  even  in  that  condition  he  announced  his 
intention  of  fighting  on  and  bitterly  denounced  his 
fellow-officers  for  agreeing  to  surrender.  As  a  mat- 
ter of  fact,  he  escaped  that  ignominy.  For,  taking 
advantage  of  his  great  knowledge  of  the  country,  he 
contrived  to  make  his  way  through  the  American 
lines  with  his  few  followers,  and  from  that  time 
may  be  said  to  have  taken  matters  into  his  own 
hand. 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST        23 

Old  Ramerrez  was  conscious  that  his  end  was 
merely  a  matter  of  hours,  if  not  minutes.  Over  and 
over  again  he  had  had  himself  propped  up  by  his  at- 
tendants with  the  expectation  that  his  command  to 
bring  his  son  had  been  obeyed.  No  one  knew  better 
than  he  how  impossible  it  would  be  to  resist  another 
spasm  like  that  which  had  seized  him  a  little  while 
after  his  son  had  ridden  off  the  rancho  early  that 
morning.  Yet  he  relied  once  more  on  his  iron  con- 
stitution, and  absolutely  refused  to  die  until  he  had 
laid  upon  his  next  of  kin  what  he  thoroughly  believed 
to  be  a  stern  duty.  Deep  down  in  heart,  it  is  true, 
he  was  vaguely  conscious  of  a  feeling  of  dread  lest 
his  cherished  revenge  should  meet  with  opposition; 
but  he  refused  to  harbour  the  thought,  believing,  not 
unnaturally,  that,  after  having  imposed  his  will  upon 
others  for  nearly  seventy  years,  it  was  extremely  un- 
likely that  his  dying  command  should  be  disobeyed 
by  his  son.  And  it  was  in  the  midst  of  these  death- 
bed reflections  that  he  heard  hurried  footsteps  and 
knew  that  his  boy  had  come  at  last. 

When  the  latter  entered  the  room  his  face  wore  an 
agonised  expression,  for  he  feared  that  he  had  ar- 
rived too  late.  It  was  a  relief,  therefore,  to  see  his 
father,  who  had  lain  still,  husbanding  his  little  re- 
maining strength,  open  his  eyes  and  make  a  sign, 
which  included  the  padre  as  well  as  the  attendants, 
that  he  wished  to  be  left  alone  with  his  son. 


24       GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

"  Art  thou  here  at  last,  my  son  ?  "  said  the  old 
man  the  moment  they  were  alone. 

"  Ay,  father,  I  came  as  soon  as  I  received  your 
message." 

"  Come  nearer,  then,  I  have  much  to  say  to  you, 
and  I  have  not  long  to  live.  Have  I  been  a  good 
father  to  you,  my  lad?  " 

The  young  man  knelt  beside  the  couch  and  kissed 
his  father's  hand,  while  he  murmured  an  assent. 

At  the  touch  of  his  son's  lips  a  chill  struck  the  old 
man's  heart.  It  tortured  him  to  think  how  little  the 
boy  guessed  of  the  recent  history  of  the  man  he  was 
bending  over  with  loving  concern ;  how  little  he  di- 
vined of  the  revelation  that  must  presently  be  made 
to  him.  For  a  moment  the  dying  man  felt  that,  after 
all,  perhaps  it  were  better  to  renounce  his  vengeance, 
for  it  had  been  suddenly  borne  in  upon  him  that  the 
boy  might  suffer  acutely  in  the  life  that  he  intended 
him  to  live;  but  in  another  moment  he  had  taken  him- 
self to  task  for  a  weakness  that  he  considered  must 
have  been  induced  by  his  dying  condition,  and  he 
sternly  banished  the  thought  from  his  mind. 

"  My  lad,"  he  began,  "  you  promise  to  carry  out 
my  wishes  after  I  am  gone?  " 

"  Ay,  father,  you  know  that  I  will.  What  do  you 
wish  me  to  do  ?  " 

The  old  man  pointed  to  the  crucifix. 

"You  swear  it?" 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST        25 

"  I  swear  it." 

No  sooner  had  the  son  uttered  the  wished-for 
words  than  his  father  fell  back  on  the  couch  and 
closed  his  eyes.  The  effort  and  excitement  left  him 
as  white  as  a  sheet.  It  seemed  to  the  boy  as  if  his 
father  might  be  sinking  into  the  last  stupor,  but  after 
a  while  he  opened  his  eyes  and  called  for  a  glass  of 
aguardiente. 

With  difficulty  he  gulped  it  down;  then  he  said 
feebly: 

"  My  boy,  the  only  American  that  ever  was  good 
was  your  mother.  She  was  an  angel.  All  the  rest 
of  these  cursed  gringos  are  pigs;"  and  his  voice 
growing  stronger,  he  repeated :  "  Ay,  pigs,  hogs, 
swine !  " 

The  son  made  no  reply;  his  father  went  on: 

"  What  have  not  these  devils  done  to  our  coun- 
try ever  since  they  came  here?  At  first  we  received 
them  most  hospitably;  everything  they  wanted  was 
gladly  supplied  to  them.  And  what  did  they  do  in 
return  for  our  kindness?  Where  now  are  our  ex- 
tensive ranches  —  our  large  herds  of  cattle?  They 
have  managed  to  rob  us  of  our  lands  through  clever 
laws  that  we  of  California  cannot  understand;  they 
have  stolen  from  our  people  thousands  and  thousands 
of  cattle !  There  is  no  infamy  that  — -" 

The  young  man  hastened  to  interrupt  him. 

"  You  must  not  excite  yourself,  father,"  he  said 


26       GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

with  solicitude.  "  They  are  unscrupulous  —  many 
of  them,  but  all  are  not  so." 

"  Bah!  "  ejaculated  the  old  man;  "  the  gringos  are 
all  alike.  I  hate  them  all,  I  — "  The  old  man  was 
unable  to  finish.  He  gasped  for  breath.  But  de- 
spite his  son's  entreaties  to  be  calm,  he  presently  cried 
out: 

"Do  you  know  who  you  are?"  And  not  wait- 
ing for  a  reply  he  went  on  with :  "  Our  name  is  one 
of  the  proudest  in  Spain  —  none  better!  The  curse 
of  a  long  line  of  ancestors  will  be  upon  you  if  you 
tamely  submit  —  not  make  these  Americans  suffer 
for  their  seizure  of  this,  our  rightful  land  —  our 
beautiful  California!  " 

More  anxiously  than  ever  now  the  son  regarded 
his  father.  His  inspection  left  no  doubt  in  his  mind 
that  the  end  could  not  be  far  off.  With  great  ear- 
nestness he  implored  him  to  lie  down ;  but  the  dying 
man  shook  his  head  and  continued  to  grow  more  and 
more  excited. 

"Do  you  know  who  I  am?"  he  demanded. 
"  No  —  you  think  you  do,  but  you  don't.  There 
was  a  time  when  I  had  plenty  of  money.  It  pleased 
me  greatly  to  pay  all  your  expenses  —  to  see  that 
you  received  the  best  education  possible  both  at  home 
and  abroad.  Then  the  gringos  came.  Little  by  lit- 
tle these  cursed  Americanos  have  taken  all  that  I  had 
from  me.  But  as  they  have  sown  so  shall  they  reap. 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST        27 

I  have  taken  my  revenge,  and  you  shall  take  more !  " 
He  paused  to  get  his  breath;  then  in  a  terrible  voice 
he  cried:  "Yes,  I  have  robbed  —  robbed!  For 
the  last  three  years,  almost,  your  father  has  been  a 
bandit!" 

The  son  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"A  bandit?  You,  father,  a  Ramerrez,  a  ban- 
dit?" 

"  Ay,  a  bandit,  an  outlaw,  as  you  also  will  be  when 
I  am  no  more,  and  rob,  rob,  rob,  these  Americanos. 
It  is  my  command  and  —  you  —  have  —  sworn  .  .  .'v 

The  son's  eyes  were  rivetted  upon  his  father's  face 
as  the  old  man  fell  back,  completely  exhausted,  upon 
his  couch  of  rawhides.  With  a  strange  conflict  of 
emotions,  the  young  man  remained  standing  in  si- 
lence for  a  few  brief  seconds  that  seemed  like  hours, 
while  the  pallor  of  death  crept  over  the  face  before 
him,  leaving  no  doubt  that,  in  the  solemnity  of  the 
moment  his  father  had  spoken  nothing  but  the  literal 
truth.  It  was  a  hideous  avowal  to  hear  from  the 
dying  lips  of  one  whom  from  earliest  childhood  he 
had  been  taught  to  revere  as  the  pattern  of  Spanish 
honour  and  nobility.  And  yet  the  thought  now  up- 
permost in  young  Ramerrez's  mind  was  that  oddly 
enough  he  had  not  been  taken  by  surprise.  Never 
by  a  single  word  had  any  one  of  his  father's  follow- 
ers given  him  a  hint  of  the  truth.  So  absolute,  so 
feudal  was  the  old  man's  mastery  over  his  men  that 


28        GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

not  a  whisper  of  his  occupation  had  ever  reached  his 
son's  ears.  Nevertheless,  he  now  told  himself  that 
in  some  curious,  instinctive  way,  he  had  known, — 
or  rather,  had  refused  to  know,  putting  off  the  hour 
of  open  avowal,  shutting  his  eyes  to  the  accumulating 
facts  that  day  by  day  had  silently  spoken  of  lawless- 
ness and  peril.  Three  years,  his  father  had  just  said ; 
well,  that  explained  how  it  was  that  no  suspicions  had 
ever  awakened  until  after  he  had  completed  his  ed- 
ucation and  returned  home  from  his  travels.  But 
since  then  a  child  must  have  noted  that  something 
was  wrong :  the  grim,  sinister  faces  of  the  men,  con- 
stantly on  guard,  as  though  the  old  hacienda  were  in 
a  state  of  siege;  the  altered  disposition  of  his  father, 
always  given  to  gloomy  moods,  but  lately  doubly  si- 
lent and  saturnine,  full  of  strange  savagery  and 
smouldering  fire.  Yes,  somewhere  in  the  back  of 
his  mind  he  had  known  the  whole,  shameful  truth; 
had  known  the  purpose  of  those  silent,  stealthy  ex- 
cursions, and  equally  silent  returns, —  and  more  than 
once  the  broken  heads  and  bandaged  arms  that  co- 
incided so  oddly  with  some  new  tale  of  a  daring  hold- 
up that  he  was  sure  to  hear  of,  the  next  time  that  he 
chanced  to  ride  into  Monterey.  For  three  years, 
young  Ramerrez  had  known  that  sooner  or  later  he 
would  be  facing  such  a  moment  as  this,  called  upon 
to  make  the  choice  that  should  make  or  mar  him  for 
life.  And  now,  for  the  first  time  he  realised  why 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST        29 

he  had  never  voiced  his  suspicions,  never  questioned, 
never  hastened  the  time  of  decision, —  it  was  because 
even  now  he  did  not  know  which  way  he  wished  to 
decide !  He  knew  only  that  he  was  torn  and  racked 
by  terrible  emotions,  that  on  one  side  was  a  mighty 
impulse  to  disregard  the  oath  he  had  blindly  taken 
and  refuse  to  do  his  father's  bidding;  and  on  the 
other,  some  new  and  unguessed  craving  for  excite- 
ment and  danger,  some  inherited  lawlessness  in  his 
blood,  something  akin  to  the  intoxication  of  the 
arena,  when  the  thunder  of  the  bull's  hoofs  rang  in 
his  ears.  And  so,  when  the  old  man's  lips  opened 
once  more,  and  shaped,  almost  inaudibly,  the  solemn 
words : 

"  You  have  sworn, — "  the  scales  were  turned  and 
the  son  bowed  his  head  in  silence. 

A  moment  later  and  the  room  was  filled  with  men 
who  fell  on  their  knees.  On  every  face,  save  one, 
there  was  an  expression  of  overwhelming  grief  and 
despair;  but  on  that  one,  ashen  grey  as  it  was  with 
the  agony  of  approaching  death,  there  was  a  look  of 
contentment  as  he  made  a  sign  to  the  padre  that  he 
was  now  ready  for  him  to  administer  the  last  rites  of 
his  church. 


in 


THE  Polka  Saloon ! 

How  the  name  stirs  the  blood  and  rouses  the  im- 
agination ! 

No  need  to  be  a  Forty-Niner  to  picture  it  all  as  if 
there  that  night :  the  great  high  and  square  room 
lighted  by  candles  and  the  warm,  yellow  light  of 
kerosene  lamps;  the  fireplace  with  its  huge  logs 
blazing  and  roaring;  the  faro  tables  with  the  little 
rings  of  miners  around  them;  and  the  long,  pine  bar 
behind  which  a  typical  barkeeper  of  the  period  was 
busily  engaged  in  passing  the  bottle  to  the  men 
clamorous  for  whisky  in  which  to  drink  the  health 
of  the  Girl. 

And  the  spirit  of  the  place!  When  and  where 
was  there  ever  such  a  fine  fellowship  —  transform- 
ing as  it  unquestionably  did  an  ordinary  saloon  into 
a  veritable  haven  of  good  cheer  for  miners  weary 
after  a  long  and  often  discouraging  day  in  the 
gulches  ? 

In  a  word,  the  Polka  was  a  marvellous  tribute  to  its 
girl-proprietor's  sense  of  domesticity.  Nothing 
that  could  insure  the  comfort  for  her  patrons  was 
omitted.  Nothing,  it  would  seem,  could  occur  that 
would  disturb  the  harmonious  aspect  of  the  scene. 

But  alas !  the  night  was  yet  young. 
30 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST        31; 

Now  the  moment  for  which  not  a  few  of  that 
good-humoured  and  musically-inclined  company  were 
waiting  arrived.  Clear  above  the  babel  of  voices 
sounded  a  chord,  and  the  poor  old  concertina  player 
began  singing  in  a  voice  that  was  as  wheezy  as  his 
instrument : 

"  Camp  town  ladies  sing  this  song 

Dooda!     Dooda! 

Camp  town  race  track  five  miles  long 
Dooda!     Dooda!     Day!" 

Throughout  the  solo  nothing  more  nerve-racking 
or  explosive  than  an  occasional  hilarious  whoop 
punctuated  the  melody.  For  once,  at  any  rate,  it 
seemed  likely  to  go  the  distance;  but  no  sooner  did 
the  chorus,  which  had  been  taken  up,  to  a  man,  by 
the  motley  crowd  and  was  rip-roaring  along  at  a 
great  rate,  reach  the  second  line  than  there  sounded 
the  reports  of  a  fusillade  of  gun-shots  from  the  di- 
rection of  the  street  The  effect  was  magical:  every 
voice  trailed  off  into  uncertainty  and  then  ceased. 

Instantly  the  atmosphere  became  charged  with! 
tension;  a  hush  fell  upon  the  room,  the  joyous  light 
of  battle  in  every  eye,  if  nothing  else,  attesting  the 
approach  of  the  foe;  while  all  present,  after  listen- 
ing contemptuously  to  a  series  of  wild  and  unearthly 
yells  which  announced  an  immediate  arrival,  sprang 


32       GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

to  their  feet  and  concentrated  their  glances  on  the 
entrance  of  the  saloon  through  which  there  presently 
burst  a  party  of  lively  boys  from  The  Ridge. 

A  psychological  moment  followed,  during  which 
the  occupants  of  The  Polka  Saloon  glared  fiercely  at 
the  newcomers,  who,  needless  to  say,  returned  their 
hostile  stares.  The  chances  of  war,  judging  from 
past  performances,  far  outnumbered  those  of  peace. 
But  as  often  happens  in  affairs  of  this  kind  when 
neither  side  is  unprepared,  the  desire  for  gun-play 
gave  way  to  mirthless  laughter,  and,  presently,  the 
hilarious  crowd  from  the  rival  camp,  turning 
abruptly  on  their  heels,  betook  themselves  en  masse 
into  the  dance-hall. 

For  the  briefest  of  periods,  there  was  a  look  of 
keen  disappointment  on  the  faces  of  the  Cloudy 
Mountain  boys  as  they  gazed  upon  the  receding 
figures  of  their  sworn  enemies ;  but  almost  in  as  little 
time  as  it  takes  to  tell  it  there  was  a  tumultuous  lin- 
ing up  at  the  bar,  the  flat  surface  of  which  soon 
resounded  with  the  heavy  blows  dealt  it  by  the  fists 
of  the  men  desirous  of  accentuating  the  rhythm  when 
roaring  out: 

"  Gwine  to  run  all  night, 
Gwine  to  run  all  day, 
Bet  my  money  on  a  bob-tail  nag, 
Somebody  bet  on  the  bay!" 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST        33 

Among  those  standing  at  the  bar,  and  looking  out 
of  bleared  eyes  at  a  flashy  lithograph  tacked  upon 
the  wall  which  pictured  a  Spanish  woman  in  short 
skirts  and  advertised  "  Espaniola  Cigaroos,"  were 
two  miners :  one  with  curly  hair  and  a  pink-and- 
white  complexion;  the  other,  tall,  loose-limbed  and 
good-natured  looking.  They  were  known  respect- 
ively as  Handsome  Charlie  and  Happy  Halliday, 
and  had  been  arguing  in  a  maudlin  fashion  over  the 
relative  merits  of  Spanish  and  American  beauties. 
The  moment  the  song  was  concluded  they  banged 
their  glasses  significantly  on  the  bar;  but  since  it  was 
an  unbroken  rule  of  the  house  that  at  the  close  of 
the  musician's  performance  he  should  be  rewarded 
by  a  drink,  which  was  always  passed  up  to  him,  they 
needs  must  wait.  The  little  barkeeper  paid  no  at- 
tention to  their  demands  until  he  had  satisfied  the 
thirst  of  the  old  concertina  player  who,  presently, 
could  be  seen  drawing  aside  the  bear-pelt  curtain  and 
passing  through  the  small,  square  opening  of  the 
partition  which  separated  the  Polka  Saloon  from  its 
-dance-hall. 

"Not  goin',  old  Dooda  Day,  are  you?"  The 
question,  almost  a  bellow,  which,  needless  to  say, 
was  unanswered,  came  from  Sonora  Slim  who,  with 
his  great  pal  Trinidad  Joe,  was  playing  faro  at  a 
table  on  one  side  of  the  room.  Apparently,  both 
were  losing  steadily  to  the  dealer  whose  chair,  placed 


34       GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

up  against  the  pine-boarded  wall,  was  slightly  raised 
above  the  floor.  This  last  individual  was  as  fat 
and  unctuous  looking  as  his  confederate,  the  Look- 
out, was  thin  and  sneaky;  moreover,  he  bore  the 
sobriquet  of  The  Sidney  Duck  and,  obviously,  was 
from  Australia. 

"  Say,  what  did  the  last  eight  do?"  Sonora  now 
asked,  turning  to  the  case-keeper. 

"  Lose." 

"  Well,  let  the  tail  go  with  the  hide,"  returned 
Sonora,  resignedly. 

"And  the  ace  —  how  many  times  did  it  win?" 
inquired  Trinidad. 

"  Four  times,"  was  the  case-keeper's  answer. 

All  this  time  a  full-blooded  Indian  with  long, 
blue-black  hair,  very  thick  and  oily,  had  been  watch- 
ing the  game  with  excited  eyes.  His  dress  was  part 
Indian  and  part  American,  and  he  wore  all  kinds  of 
imitation  jewelry  including  a  huge  scarf-pin  which 
flashed  from  his  vivid  red  tie.  Furthermore,  he  pos- 
sessed a  watch, —  a  large,  brassy-looking  article, — 
which  he  brought  out  on  every  possible  occasion. 
When  not  engaged  in  helping  himself  to  the  dregs 
that  remained  in  the  glasses  carelessly  left  about  the 
room,  he  was  generally  to  be  found  squatted  down 
on  the  floor  and  playing  a  solitaire  of  his  own  de- 
vising. But  now  he  reached  over  Sonora's  shoul- 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST        35 

der  and  put  some  coins  on  the  table  in  front  of  the 
dealer. 

"  Give  Billy  Jackrabbit  fer  two  dolla'  Mexican 
chip,"  he  demanded  in  a  guttural  voice. 

The  Sidney  Duck  did  as  requested.  While  he 
was  shuffling  the  cards  for  a  new  deal,  the  players 
beat  time  with  their  feet  to  the  music  that  floated  in 
from  the  dance-hall.  The  tune  seemed  to  have  an 
unusually  exhilarating  effect  on  Happy  Halliday,  for 
letting  out  a  series  of  whoops  he  staggered  off  to- 
wards the  adjoining  room  with  the  evident  intention 
of  getting  his  fill  of  the  music,  not  forgetting  to  yell 
back  just  before  he  disappeared: 

"  Root  hog  or  die,  boys !  " 

Happy's  boisterous  exit  caused  a  peculiar  expres- 
sion to  appear  immediately  on  Handsome's  face, 
which  might  be  interpreted  as  one  of  envy  at  his 
friend's  exuberant  condition;  at  all  events,  he  pro- 
ceeded forthwith  to  order  several  drinks,  gulping 
them  down  in  rapid  succession. 

Meanwhile,  at  the  faro  table,  the  luck  was  going 
decidedly  against  the  boys.  In  fact,  so  much  so, 
that  there  was  a  dangerous  note  in  Sonera's  voice 
when,  presently,  he  blurted  out: 

"  See  here,  gambolier  Sid,  you're  too  lucky!  " 

"  You  bet!  "  approved  Trinidad,  and  then  added: 
"  More  chips,  Australier!  " 


36       GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

But  Trinidad's  comment,  as  well  as  his  request, 
only  brought  forth  the  oily  smile  that  The  Sidney 
Duck  always  smiled  when  any  reference  was  made 
to  his  game.  It  was  his  policy  to  fawn  upon  all  and 
never  permit  himself  to  think  that  an  insult  was  in- 
tended. So  he  gathered  in  Trinidad's  money  and 
gave  him  chips  in  return.  For  some  seconds  the  men 
played  on  without  anything  disturbing  the  game  ex- 
cept the  loud  voice  of  the  caller  of  the  wheel-of- 
fortune  in  the  dance-hall.  But  the  boys  were  to  hear 
something  more  from  there  besides,  "  Round  goes 
the  wheel !  "  For,  all  at  once  there  came  to  their 
ears  the  sounds  of  an  altercation  in  which  it  was  not 
difficult  to  recognise  the  penetrating  voice  of  Happy 
Halliday. 

"  Now,  git,  you  loafer  1  "  he  was  saying  in  tones 
that  left  no  doubt  in  the  minds  of  his  friends  that 
Happy  was  hot  under  the  collar  over  something. 

A  shot  followed. 

"  Missed,  by  the  Lord  Harry !  "  ejaculated 
Happy,  deeply  humiliated  at  his  failure  to  increase 
the  mortuary  record  of  the  camp. 

The  incident,  however,  passed  unnoticed  by  the 
faro  players ;  not  a  man  within  sound  of  the  shot,  for 
that  matter,  inquired  what  the  trouble  was  about; 
and  even  Nick,  picking  up  his  tray  filled  with  glasses 
and  a  bottle,  walked  straightway  into  the  dance-hall 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST        37 

looking  as  if  the  matter  were  not  worth  a  moment's 
thought. 

At  Nick's  going  the  Indian's  face  brightened;  it 
gave  him  the  opportunity  for  which  he  had  been 
waiting.  Nobly  he  maintained  his  reputation  as  a 
thief  by  quietly  going  behind  the  bar  and  lifting 
from  a  box  four  cigars  which  he  stowed  away  in  his 
pockets.  But  even  that,  apparently  did  not  satisfy 
him,  for  when  he  espied  the  butt  of  a  cigar,  flung 
into  the  sawdust  on  the  floor  by  a  man  who  had  just 
come  in,  he  picked  it  up  before  squatting  down  again 
to  resume  his  card  playing. 

The  newcomer,  a  man  of,  say,  forty  years,  came 
slowly  into  the  room  without  a  word  of  salutation 
to  anyone.  In  common  with  his  fellow-miners,  he 
wore  a  flannel  shirt  and  boots.  The  latter  gave 
every  evidence  of  age  as  did  his  clothes  which,  never- 
theless, were  neat.  His  face  wore  a  mild,  gentle 
look  and  would  have  said  that  he  was  companionable 
enough ;  yet  it  was  impossible  not  to  see  that  he  was 
not  willingly  seeking  the  cheer  of  the  saloon  but  came 
there  solely  because  he  had  no  other  place  to  go. 
In  a  word,  he  had  every  appearance  of  a  man  down 
on  his  luck. 

Men  were  continually  coming  in  and  going  out, 
but  no  one  paid  the  slightest  attention  to  him,  even 
though  a  succession  of  audible  sighs  escaped  his  lips. 


38        GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

At  length  he  went  over  to  the  counter  and  took  a 
sheet  or  two  of  the  paper, —  which  was  kept  there 
for  the  few  who  desired  to  write  home, —  a  quill- 
pen  and  ink;  and  picking  up  a  small  wooden  box  he 
seated  himself  upon  it  before  a  desk  —  which  had 
been  built  from  a  rude  packing-case  —  and  began 
wearily  and  laboriously  to  write. 

"  The  lone  star  now  rises!  " 

It  was  the  stentorian  voice  of  the  caller  of  the 
wheel-of-fortune.  One  would  have  thought  that  the 
sound  would  have  had  the  effect  of  a  thunder-clap 
upon  the  figure  at  the  desk;  but  he  gave  no  sign  what- 
ever of  having  heard  it;  nor  did  he  see  the  suspicious 
glance  which  Nick,  entering  at  that  moment,  shot  at 
Billy  Jackrabbit  who  was  stealing  noiselessly  towards 
the  dance-hall  where  the  whoops  were  becoming  so 
frequent  and  evincing  such  exuberance  of  spirits  that 
the  ubiquitous,  if  generally  unconcerned,  Nick  felt  it 
incumbent  to  give  an  explanation  of  them. 

"  Boys  from  The  Ridge  cuttin'  up  a  bit,"  he  ten- 
dered apologetically,  and  took  up  a  position  at  the 
end  of  the  bar  where  he  could  command  a  view  of 
both  rooms. 

As  a  partial  acknowledgment  that  he  had  heard 
Nick's  communication,  Sonora  turned  round  slightly 
in  his  seat  at  the  faro  table  and  shot  a  glance  towards 
:he  dance-hall.  Contempt  showed  on  his  rugged 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST        39 

features  when  he  turned  round  again  and  addressed 
the  stocky,  little  man  sitting  at  his  elbow. 

"Well,  I  don't  dance  with  men  for  partners! 
When  I  shassay,  Trin,  I  want  a  feminine  piece  of 
flesh  an'  blood  " —  he  sneered,  and  then  went  on  to 
amplify — "  with  garters  on." 

"  You  bet!  "  agreed  his  faithful,  if  laconic  pal,  on 
feeling  the  other's  playful  dig  in  his  ribs. 

The  subject  of  men  dancing  together  was  a  never- 
ceasing  topic  of  conversation  between  these  two 
cronies.  But  whatever  the  attitude  of  others  Sonora 
knew  that  Trinidad  would  never  fail  him  when  it 
came  to  nice  discriminations  of  this  sort.  His  refer- 
ence to  an  article  of  feminine  apparel,  however,  was 
responsible  for  his  recalling  the  fact  that  he  had  not 
as  yet  received  his  daily  assurance  from  the  presid- 
ing genius  of  the  bar  that  he  stood  well  in  the  estima- 
tion of  the  only  lady  in  the  camp.  Therefore,  leav- 
ing the  table,  he  went  over  to  Nick  and  whispered: 

"  Has  the  Girl  said  anythin'  about  me  to-day, 
Nick?" 

Now  the  role  of  confidential  adviser  to  the  boys 
was  not  a  new  one  to  the  barkeeper,  nor  was  any- 
one in  the  camp  more  familiar  than  he  with  their 
good  qualities  as  well  as  their  failings.  Every 
morning  before  going  to  work  in  the  placers  it  was 
their  custom  to  stop  in  at  The  Polka  for  their  first 


40       GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

drink  —  which  was,  generally,  "  on  the  house."  In- 
variably, Nick  received  them  in  his  shirt-sleeves, — 
for  that  matter  he  was  the  proud  possessor  of  the 
sole  "  biled  shirt  "  in  the  camp, —  and  what  with  his 
red  flannel  undershirt  that  extended  far  below  the 
line  of  his  cuffs,  his  brilliantly-coloured  waistcoat 
and  tie,  and  his  hair  combed  down  very  low  in  a  cow- 
lick over  his  forehead,  he  was  indeed  an  odd  little 
figure  of  a  man  as  he  listened  patiently  to  the  boys' 
grievances  and  doled  out  sympathy  to  them.  On 
the  other  hand,  absolutely  devoted  to  the  fair  pro- 
prietress of  the  saloon, —  though  solely  in  the  char- 
acter of  a  good  comrade, —  he  never  ceased  trying 
to  advance  her  interests;  and  since  one  and  all  of  her 
customers  believed  themselves  to  be  in  love  with  her, 
one  of  his  most  successful  methods  was  to  flatter 
each  one  in  turn  into  thinking  that  he  had  made  a 
tremendous  impression  upon  her.  It  was  not  a  diffi- 
cult thing  to  do  inasmuch  as  long  custom  and  repeti- 
tion had  made  him  an  adept  at  highly-coloured 
lying. 

"  Well,  you  got  the  first  chance,"  asseverated 
Nick,  dropping  his  voice  to  a  whisper. 

Sonora  grinned  from  ear  to  ear;  he  expanded  his 
broad  chest  and  held  his  head  proudly;  and  waving 
his  hand  in  lordly  fashion  he  sung  out: 

"  Cigars  for  all  hands  and  drinks,  too,  Nick !  " 

The   genial   prevaricator   could  scarcely   restrain 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST        41 

himself  from  laughing  outright  as  he  watched  the 
other  return  to  his  place  at  the  faro  table;  and  when, 
in  due  course,  he  served  the  concoctions  and  passed 
around  the  high-priced  cigars,  there  was  a  smile  on 
his  face  which  said  as  plainly  as  if  spoken  that  So- 
nora  was  not  the  only  person  present  that  had  reason 
to  be  pleased  with  himself. 

Then  occurred  one  of  those  terpsichorean  pei> 
formances  which  never  failed  to  shock  old  Sonera's 
sense  of  the  fitness  of  things.  For  the  next  moment 
two  Ridge  boys,  dancing  together,  waltzed  through 
the  opening  between  the  two  rooms  and,  letting  out 
ear-piercing  whoops  with  every  rotation,  whirled 
round  and  round  the  room  until  they  brought  up 
against  the  bar  where  they,  breathlessly,  called  for 
drinks. 

An  angry  lull  fell  upon  the  room ;  the  card  game 
stopped.  However^  before  anyone  seated  there 
could  give  vent  to  his  resentment  at  this  boisterous 
intrusion  of  the  men  from  the  rival  camp,  the  smooth, 
oily  and  inviting  voice  of  the  unprincipled  Sidney 
Duck,  scenting  easy  prey  because  of  their  inebriated 
condition,  called  out  in  its  cockney  accent: 

"  'Ello,  boys  —  'ow's  things  at  The  Ridge?  " 

"  Wipes  this  camp  off  the  earth !  "  returned  a 
voice  that  was  provocative  in  the  extreme  —  a  reply 
that  instantly  brought  every  man  at  the  faro  table  to 
his  feet.  For  a  time,  at  least,  it  seemed  as  if  the 


42        GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

boys  from  The  Ridge  would  get  the  trouble  they 
were  looking  for. 

A  murmur  of  angry  amazement  arose,  while 
Sonora,  his  watery  blue  eyes  glinting,  followed  up 
his  explosive,  "  What!  "  with  a  suggestive  movement 
towards  his  hip.  But  quick  as  he  was  Nick  was  still 
quicker  and  had  The  Ridge  boy,  as  well  as  Sonora, 
covered  before  their  hands  had  even  reached  their 
guns. 

"  You  .  .  . !  "  the  little  barkeeper's  sentence 
was  bristled  out  and  contained  along  with  the  exple- 
tives some  comparatively  mild  words  which  gave  the 
would-be  combatants  to  understand  that  any  such 
foolishness  would  not  be  tolerated  in  The  Polka 
unless  he  himself  "  'lowed  it  to  be  ne'ssary." 

Not  unnaturally  The  Ridge  boys  failed  to  see  any- 
thing offensive  in  language  that  had  a  gun  behind  it; 
and  realising  the  futility  of  any  further  attempt  to 
get  away  with  a  successful  disturbance  they  wisely 
yielded  to  superior  quickness  at  the  draw.  With  a 
whoop  of  resignation  they  rushed  back  to  the  dance- 
hall  where  the  voice  of  the  caller  was  exhorting  the 
gents  —  whose  partners  were  mostly  big,  husky, 
hairy-faced  men  clumsily  enacting  parts  generally 
assigned  to  members  of  the  gentler  sex  —  to 
swing : 

"  With  the  right-hand  gent,  first  partner  swing 
with  the  left-hand  gent,  first  partner  swing  with  the 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST        43 

right-hand  gent;  first  partner  swing  with  the  left- 
hand  gent,  and  the  partner  in  the  centre,  and  gents 
all  around !  " 

Back  at  the  faro  table  now, —  the  incident  having 
passed  quickly  into  oblivion, —  Sonora  called  to  the 
dealer  for  "  a  slug's  worth  of  chips  " —  a  request 
that  was  promptly  acceded  to.  But  they  had  played 
only  a  few  minutes  when  a  thin  but  somewhat  sweet 
tenor  voice  was  heard  singing: 

"  Wait  for  the  waggon, 
Wait  for  the  waggon, 
Wait  for  the  waggon, 
And  we'll  all  take  a  ride. 
Wait  for  the  waggon  — " 

"  Here  he  is,  gentlemen,  just  back  from  his  tri- 
umphs of  The  Ridge ! "  broke  in  Nick,  whose 
province  it  was  to  act  as  master  of  ceremonies;  and 
coming  forward  as  the  singer  emerged  from  the 
dance-hall  he  introduced  him  to  the  assembled  com- 
pany in  the  most  approved  music-hall  manner: 
"  Allow  me  to  present  to  you,  Jake  Wallace  the 
Camp  favour-ite !  "  he  said  with  an  exaggeratedly 
low  bow. 

"  How-dy,  Jake  !  Hello,  Jake,  old  man  !  How 
be  you,  Jake !  "  were  some  of  the  greetings  that 
were  hurled  at  the  Minstrel  who,  robed  in  a  long1 


44        GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

linen  duster,  his  face  half-blacked,  and  banjo  in  hand, 
acknowledged  the  words  of  welcome  with  a  broad 
grin  as  he  stood  bowing  in  the  centre  of  the  room. 

That  Jake  Wallace  was  a  typical  camp  minstrel 
from  the  top  of  his  dusty  stove-pipe  hat  to  the  sole 
of  his  flapping  negro  shoes,  one  could  see  with  half 
an  eye  as  he  made  his  way  to  a  small  platform  —  a 
musician's  stand  —  at  one  end  of  the  bar;  nor  could 
there  be  any  question  about  his  being  a  prudent  one, 
for  the  musician  did  not  seat  himself  until  he  had 
carefully  examined  the  sheet-iron  shield  inside  the 
railing,  which  was  attached  in  such  a  way  that  it 
could  be  sprung  up  by  working  a  spring  in  the  floor 
and  render  him  fairly  safe  from  a  chance  shot  dur- 
ing a  fracas. 

"  My  first  selection,  friends,  will  be  *  The  Lit- 
tle— '  announced  the  Minstrel  with  a  smile  as  he 
begun  to  tune  his  instrument. 

"  Aw,  give  us  '  Old  Dog  Tray,'  "  cut  in  Sonora, 
impatiently  from  his  seat  at  the  card  table. 

Jake  bowed  his  ready  acquiescence  to  the  request 
and  kept  right  on  tuning  up. 

" 1  say,  Nick,  have  you  saw  the  Girl  ? "  asked 
Trinidad  in  a  low  voice,  taking  advantage  of  the 
interval  to  stroll  over  to  the  bar. 

Mysteriously,  Nick's  eyes  wandered  about  the 
room  to  see  if  anyone  was  listening;  at  length,  with 
marvellous  insincerity,  he  said: 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST       45. 

"  You've  got  the  first  chance,  Trin ;  I  gave  'cr 
your  message." 

Trinidad  Joe  fairly  beamed  upon  him. 

"  Whisky  for  everybody,  Nick ! "  he  ordered 
bumptuously;  and  as  before  the  little  barkeeper's 
face  wore  an  expression  of  pleasure  not  a  whit  less 
than  that  of  the  man  whom,  presently,  he  followed 
to  the  faro  table  with  a  bottle  and  four  glasses. 

As  soon  as  Trinidad  had  seated  himself  the  Min- 
strel struck  a  chord  and  announced  impressively: 
"  '  Old  Dog  Tray,'  gents,  *  or  Echoes  from  Home' !  " 
He  cleared  his  throat,  and  the  next  instant  in  quaver- 
ing tones  he  warbled : 

"  How  of-ten  do  I  pic-ture 
The  old  folks  down  at  home, 
And  of-ten  wonder  if  they  think  of  me, 
Would  an-gel  mother  know  me, 
If  back  there  I  did  roam, 
Would  old  dog  Tray  re-member  me" 

At  the  first  few  words  of  his  song  the  man  at  the 
desk  who,  up  to  this  time,  had  been  wholly  oblivious 
to  what  was  taking  place,  arose  from  his  seat,  put  the 
ink-bottle  back  on  the  bar,  opened  a  cigar-box  there 
and  took  from  it  a  stamp,  which  he  put  on  his  letter. 
This  he  carried  to  a  mail-box  attached  to  the  door; 
then,  returning,  he  threw  himself  dejectedly  down  in 


46       GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

a  chair  and  put  his  head  in  his  hands,  where  it  re- 
mained throughout  the  song. 

At  the  conclusion  of  his  solo,  the  Minstrel's  emo- 
tions were  seemingly  deeply  stirred  by  his  own  melo- 
dious voice  and  he  gasped  audibly;  whereupon,  Nick 
came  to  his  relief  with  a  stiff  drink  which,  apparently, 
went  to  the  right  spot,  for  presently  the  singer's  voice 
rang  out  vigorously :  "  Now,  boys !  " 

No  second  invitation  was  needed,  and  the  chorus 
was  taken  up  by  all,  the  singers  beating  time  with 
their  feet  and  chips. 

ALL. 

"  Oh,  mother,  an-gel  mother,  are  you  waitin' 
there  beside  the  lit-tle  cottage  on  the 
lea  — " 
JAKE. 

"On  the  lea— " 
ALL. 

"  How  of -ten  would  she  bless  me  in  all  them 

days  so  fair  — 

Would  old  dog  Tray  re-member  me  — " 
SONORA. 

"  Re-member  me." 

All  the  while  the  miners  had  been  singing,  the  sad 
and  morose-looking  individual  had  been  steadily 
growing  more  and  more  disconsolate;  and  when 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST        4? 

Sonora  rumbled  out  the  last  deep  note  in  his  big, 
bass  voice,  he  heaved  a  great  sob  and  broke  down 
completely. 

In  surprised  consternation  everyone  turned  in  the 
direction  from  whence  had  come  the  sound.  But  it 
was  Sonora  who,  affected  both  by  the  pathos  of  the 
song  and  the  sight  of  the  pathetic  figure  before  them, 
quietly  went  over  and  laid  a  hand  upon  the  other's 
arm. 

"  Why,  Larkins  —  Jim  —  what's  the  trouble  — 
what's  the  matter?"  he  asked,  a  thousand  thoughts 
fluttering  within  his  breast.  "  I  wouldn't  feel  so 
bad." 

With  a  desperate  effort  Larkins,  his  face  twitch- 
ing perceptibly,  the  lines  about  his  eyes  deepening, 
struggled  to  control  himself.  At  last,  after  taking  in 
the  astonished  faces  about  him,  he  plunged  into  his 
tale  of  woe. 

"  Say,  boys,  I'm  homesick  —  I'm  broke  —  and 
what's  more,  I  don't  care  who  knows  it."  He  paused, 
his  fingers  opening  and  closing  spasmodically,  and 
for  a  moment  it  seemed  as  if  he  could  not  continue 
—  a  moment  of  silence  in  which  the  Minstrel  began 
to  pick  gently  on  his  banjo  the  air  of  Old  Dog  Tray. 

"  I  want  to  go  home !  "  suddenly  burst  from  the 
unfortunate  man's  lips.  "  I'm  tired  o'  drillin'  rocks; 
I  want  to  be  in  the  fields  again;  I  want  to  see  the 
grain  growin' ;  I  want  the  dirt  in  the  furrows  at  home; 


48        GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

I  want  old  Pensylvanny;  I  want  my  folks;  I'm  done, 
boys,  I'm  done,  I'm  done.  .  .  .  I  "  And  with 
these  words  he  buried  his  face  in  his  hands. 

"  Oh,  mother,  an-gel  mother,  are  you  waitin' — " 

sang  the  Minstrel,  dolefully. 

Men  looked  at  one  another  and  were  distressingly; 
affected ;  The  Polka  had  never  witnessed  a  more  pain- 
ful episode.  Throwing  a  coin  at  the  Minstrel, 
Sonora  stopped  him  with  an  impatient  gesture;  the 
latter  nodded  understandingly  at  the  same  time  that 
Nick,  apparently  indifferent  to  Larkin's  collapse,  be- 
gan to  dance  a  jig  behind  the  bar.  A  look  of  scowl- 
ing reproach  instantly  appeared  on  Sonera's  face. 
It  was  uncalled-for  since,  far  from  being  heartless 
and  indifferent  to  the  man's  misfortunes,  the  little 
barkeeper  had  taken  this  means  to  distract  the 
miner's  attention  from  the  pitiful  sight. 

"  Boys,  Jim  Larkins  'lows  he's  goin'  back  East," 
announced  Sonora.  "  Chip  in  every  mother's  son 
o'  you." 

Immediately  every  man  at  the  faro  table  demanded 
cash  from  The  Sidney  Duck;  a  moment  later  they, 
as  well  as  the  men  who  were  not  playing  cards,  threw 
their  money  into  the  hat  which  Sonora  passed  around. 
It  was  indeed  a  well-filled  hat  that  Sonora  held  out 
to  the  weeping  man. 

"  Here  you  are,  Jim,"  he  said  simply. 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST        49 

The  sudden  transition  from  poverty  to  compara- 
tive affluence  was  too  much  for  Larkins  I  Looking 
through  tear-dimmed  eyes  at  Sonora  he  struggled 
for  words  with  which  to  express  his  gratitude,  but 
they  refused  to  come;  and  at  last  with  a  sob  he 
turned  away.  At  the  door,  however,  he  stopped 
and  choked  out:  "Thank  you,  boys,  thank  you." 

The  next  moment  he  was  gone. 

At  once  a  wave  of  relief  swept  over  the  room. 
Indeed,  the  incident  was  forgotten  before  the  un- 
fortunate man  had  gone  ten  paces  from  The  Polka, 
for  then  it  was  that  Trinidad  suddenly  rose  in  his 
seat,  lunged  across  the  table  for  The  Sidney  Duck's 
card-box,  and  cried  out  angrily: 

"  You're  cheatin' !  That  ain't  a  square  deal ! 
You're  a  cheat !  " 

In  a  moment  the  place  was  in  an  uproar.  Every 
man  at  the  table  sprung  to  his  feet;  chairs  were  kicked 
over;  chips  flew  in  every  direction;  guns  came  from 
every  belt;  and  so  occupied  were  the  men  in  watch- 
ing The  Sidney  Duck  that  no  one  perceived  the  Look- 
out sneak  out  through  the  door  save  Nick,  who  was 
returning  from  the  dance-hall  with  a  tray  of  empty 
glasses.  But  whether  or  not  he  was  aware  that  the 
Australian's  confederate  was  bent  upon  running 
away  he  made  no  attempt  to  stop  him,  for  in  com- 
mon with  every  man  present,  including  Sonora  and 
Trinidad,  who  had  seized  the  gambler  and  brought 


50       GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

him  out  in  front  of  his  card-table,  Nick's  eyes  were 
fastened  upon  another  man  whom  none  had  seen 
enter,  but  whose  remarkable  personality,  now  as 
often,  made  itself  felt  even  though  he  spoke  not  a 
word. 

"  Lift  his  hand!  "  cried  Sonora,  looking  as  if  for 
sanction  at  the  newcomer,  who  stood  in  the  centre  of 
the  room,  calmly  smoking  a  huge  cigar. 

Forcing  up  The  Sidney  Duck's  arms,  Trinidad 
threw  upon  the  table  a  deck  of  cards  which  he  had 
found  concealed  about  the  other's  person,  bursting 
out  with: 

"  There !  Look  at  that,  the  infernal,  good-for- 
nothin'  cheat !  " 

"  String  'im  up !  "  suggested  Sonora,  and  as  be- 
fore he  shot  a  questioning  look  at  the  man,  who  was 
regarding  the  scene  with  bored  interest. 

"  You  bet !  "  shouted  Trinidad,  pulling  at  the 
Australian's  arm. 

"For  'eaven's  sake,  don't,  don't,  don't!"  wailed 
The  Sidney  Duck,  terror-stricken.  . 

The  Sheriff  of  Manzaneta  County,  for  such  was 
the  newcomer's  office,  raised  his  steely  grey  eyes  in- 
quisitorially  to  Nick's  who,  with  a  hostile  stare  at 
the  Australian,  emitted : 

"Chicken  lifter!" 

*'  String  'im  !  String  'im !  "  insisted  Trinidad,  at 
th«  same  time  dragging  the  culprit  towards  the  door. 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST        51 

"  No,  boys,  no !  "  cried  the  unfortunate  wretch, 
struggling  uselessly  to  break  away  from  his  captors. 

At  this  stage  the  Sheriff  of  Manzaneta  County 
took  a  hand  in  the  proceedings,  and  drawled  out : 

"  Well,  gentlemen  — "  He  stopped  short  and 
seemingly  became  reflective. 

Instantly,  as  was  their  wont  whenever  the  Sheriff 
spoke,  all  eyes  fixed  themselves  upon  him.  Indeed, 
it  needed  but  a  second  glance  at  this  cool,  deliberate 
individual  to  see  how  great  was  his  influence 
upon  them.  He  was  tall, —  fully  six  feet  one, — 
thin,  and  angular;  his  hair  and  moustache  were 
black  enough  to  bring  out  strongly  the  unhealthy 
pallor  of  his  face;  his  eyes  were  steel  grey  and 
were  heavily  fringed  and  arched;  his  nose  straight 
and  his  mouth  hard,  determined,  but  just,  the  lips  of 
which  were  thin  and  drawn  tightly  over  brilliantly- 
white  teeth;  and  his  soft,  pale  hands  were  almost 
feminine  looking  except  for  the  unusual  length  of  his 
fingers.  On  his  head  was  a  black  beaver  hat  with  a 
straight  brim;  a  black  broadcloth  suit  —  cut  after 
the  "  'Frisco  "  fashion  of  the  day  —  gave  every  evi- 
dence that  its  owner  paid  not  a  little  attention  to  it. 
From  the  bosom  of  his  white,  puffed  shirt  an  enor- 
mous diamond,  held  in  place  by  side  gold  chains, 
flashed  forth;  while  glittering  on  his  fingers  was 
another  stone  almost  as  large.  Below  his  trousers 
could  plainly  be  seen  the  highly-polished  boots;  the 


(52        GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

heels  and  instep  being  higher  than  those  generally  in 
use.  In  a  word,  it  was  impossible  not  to  get  the  im- 
pression that  he  was  scrupulously  immaculate  and 
careful  about  his  attire.  And  his  voice  —  the  voice 
that  tells  character  as  nothing  else  does  —  was  smooth 
and  drawling,  though  fearlessness  and  sincerity  could 
easily  be  detected  in  it.  Such  was  Mr.  Jack  Ranee, 
Gambler  and  Sheriff  of  Manzaneta  County. 

"  This  is  a  case  for  you,  Jack  Ranee,"  suddenly 
spoke  up  Sonora. 

"  Yes,"  chimed  in  Trinidad;  and  then  as  he  gave 
the  Australian  a  rough  shake,  he  added:  "Here's 
the  Sheriff  to  take  charge  of  you." 

But  Mr.  Jack  Ranee,  the  Sheriff  of  Manzaneta 
County,  was  never  known  to  move  otherwise  than 
slowly,  deliberately.  Taking  from  his  pocket  a 
smoothly-creased  handkerchief  he  proceeded  to  dust 
languidly  first  one  and  then  the  other  of  his  boots; 
and  not  until  he  had  succeeded  in  flicking  the  last 
grain  of  dust  from  them  did  he  take  up  the  business  in 
hand. 

"  Gentlemen,  what's  wrong  with  the  cyards?  "  he 
now  began  in  his  peculiar  drawling  voice. 

Sonora  pointed  to  the  faro  table. 

"The  Sidney  Duck's  cheated!  "  he  said  —  an  ac- 
cusation which  was  responsible  for  a  renewal  of  out- 
cries and  caused  a  number  of  men  to  pounce  upon 
the  faro  dealer. 


"This  is  our  verdict  and  we  are  prepared  to  stand 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST       53 

Trinidad  ran  a  significant  hand  around  his  collar. 

"  String  'im!  Come  on,  you  —  1  "  once  more  he 
cried.  But  on  seeing  the  Sheriff  raise  a  restraining 
hand  he  desisted  from  pulling  the  Australian  along. 

"  Wait  a  minute  1  "  commanded  the  Sheriff. 

The  miners  with  the  prisoner  in  their  midst  stood 
stock-still.  Now  the  Sheriff's  features  lost  some  of 
their  usual  < inscrutability  and  for  a  moment  became 
hard  and  stern.  Slowly  he  let  his  eyes  wander  com- 
prehensively about  the  saloon :  first,  they  travelled  to 
a  small  balcony  —  reached  by  a  ladder  drawn  down 
or  up  at  will  —  decorated  with  red  calico  curtains, 
garlands  of  cedar  and  bittersweet,  while  the  railing 
was  ornamented  with  a  wildcat's  skin  and  a  stuffed 
fawn's  head ;  from  the  ceiling  with  its  strings  of  red 
peppers,  onions  and  apples  they  fell  on  a  stuffed  griz- 
zly bear,  which  stood  at  the  entrance  to  the  dance- 
hall,  with  a  little  green  parasol  in  its  paw  and  an 
old  silk  hat  upon  its  head;  from  it  they  shifted  to  the 
gaudy  bar  with  its  paraphernalia  of  fancy  glasses, 
show-cases  of  coloured  liquors  and  its  pair  of  scales 
for  weighing  the  gold  dust;  and  from  that  to  a  keg, 
the  top  of  which  could  be  withdrawn  without  en- 
gendering the  slightest  suspicion  that  it  represented 
other  than  an  ordinary  receptacle  for  liquor.  Two 
notices  tacked  upon  the  wall  also  caught  and  held 
his  glance,  his  eyes  dwelling  most  affectionately  on 
the  one  reading :  "  A  Real  Home  For  The  Boys." 


54       GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

That  there  was  such  a  thing  as  sentiment  in  the 
make-up  of  the  Sheriff  of  Manzaneta  County  few 
people,  perhaps,  would  have  believed.  Neverthe- 
less, at  the  thought  that  this  placard  inspired,  he  dis- 
missed whatever  inclination  he  might  have  had  to 
deal  leniently  with  the  culprit,  and  calmly  observed : 

"  There  is  no  reason,  gentlemen,  of  being  in  a 
hurry.  I've  got  something  to  say  about  this.  I 
don't  forget,  although  I  am  the  Sheriff  of  Manzan- 
eta County,  that  I'm  running  four  games.  But  it's 
men  like  The  Sidney  Duck  here  that  casts  reflections 
on  square-minded,  sporting  men  like  myself.  And 
worse  —  far  worse,  gentlemen,  he  casts  reflections 
on  The  Polka,  the  establishment  of  the  one  decent 
woman  in  Cloudy." 

"  You  bet !  "  affirmed  Nick,  indignantly. 

"Yes,  a  lady,  d'you  hear  me?"  stormed  Sonora, 
addressing  the  prisoner;  then:  "You  lily-livered 
skunk!" 

"  Oh,  let's  string  'im  up !  "  urged  Trinidad. 

"  Yes,  come  on,  you  .  .  . !  "  was  Hand- 
some's  ejaculation,  contriving,  at  last,  to  get  his 
hands  on  the  faro  dealer. 

But  again  the  Sheriff  would  have  none  of  it. 

"  Hold  on,  hold  on  — "  he  began  and  paused  to 
philosophise :  "  After  all,  gents,  what's  death  ?  A 
kick  and  you're  off;"  and  then  went  on:  "I've 
thought  of  a  worse  punishment.  Give  him  his  coat." 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST       55 

Surprised  and  perplexed  at  this  order,  Handsome, 
reluctantly,  assisted  the  culprit  into  his  coat. 

"  Put  him  over  there,"  the  Sheriff  now  ordered. 

Whereupon,  obedient  to  the  instructions  of  that 
personage,  The  Sidney  Duck  was  roughly  put  down 
into  a  chair;  and  while  he  was  firmly  held  into  it, 
Ranee  strolled  nonchalantly  over  to  the  faro  table 
and  picked  out  a  card  from  the  deck  there.  Return- 
ing, he  quickly  plucked  a  stick-pin  from  the  prisoner's 
scarf,  saying,  while  he  suited  his  action  to  his  words : 

"  See,  now  I  place  the  deuce  of  spades  over  his 
heart  as  a  warning.  He  can't  leave  the  camp,  and 
he  never  plays  cyards  again  —  see?"  And  while 
the  men,  awed  to  silence,  stood  looking  at  one  an- 
other, he  instructed  Handsome  to  pass  the  word 
through  the  camp. 

"  Ow,  now,  don't  si  that !  Don't  si  that !  "  bawled 
out  the  card  sharp. 

The  sentence  met  with  universal  approval.  Ranee 
waved  an  authoritative  hand  towards  the  door;  and 
the  incident,  a  few  seconds  later,  passed  into  its  place 
in  the  camp  records.  Albeit,  in  those  seconds,  and 
while  the  men  were  engrossed  in  the  agreeable  task 
of  ejecting  The  Sidney  Duck,  The  Polka  harboured 
another  guest,  no  less  unwelcome,  who  made  his  way 
unobserved  through  the  saloon  to  become  an  unob- 
trusive spectator  of  the  doings  in  the  dance-hall. 


IV 


IN  the  space  of  six  months  one  can  do  little  or  much 
harm.  The  young  bandit, —  for  he  had  kept  his 
oath  to  his  father, —  flattered  himself  that  he  had 
done  much.  In  all  the  mining  camps  of  the  Sierras 
the  mere  mention  of  the  name  of  Ramerrez  brought 
forth  execrations.  Not  a  stage  started  out  with  its 
precious  golden  freight  without  its  passengers  hav- 
ing misgivings  that  they  would  be  held  up  before 
reaching  Sacramento.  Messengers  armed  with  shot- 
guns were  always  to  be  found  at  their  post  beside  the 
drivers;  yet,  despite  all  precautions,  not  a  week 
passed  without  a  report  that  the  stage  out  of  this  or 
that  camp,  had  been  attacked  and  the  passengers 
forced  to  surrender  their  money  and  valuables.  Un- 
der no  circumstances,  however,  were  any  of  Ramer- 
rez's  own  countrymen  molested.  If,  by  any  chance, 
the  road  agent  made  a  mistake  and  stopped  a  party 
of  native  Californians  or  Mexicans,  they  were  at 
once  permitted  to  proceed  on  their  way  with  the  ban- 
dit-leader's profuse  apologies. 

But  it  was  altogether  different  with  Americans. 
The  men  of  that  race  were  compelled  to  surrender 
their  gold;  although  so  far  as  he  was  concerned, 
their  women  were  exempt  from  robbery.  As  a  mat- 
ter of  fact,  he  had  few  chances  to  show  his  chivalry, 
56 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST        57 

since  few  women  were  living,  at  that  time,  in  the 
Sierras.  Nevertheless,  it  happened  in  rare  instances 
that  a  stage  was  held  up  which  contained  one  or  two 
of  them,  and  they  were  never  known  to  complain  of 
his  treatment.  And  so  far,  at  least,  he  had  con- 
trived to  avoid  any  serious  bloodshed.  Two  or 
three  messengers,  it  is  true,  had  been  slightly 
wounded;  but  that  was  the  most  that  his  worst  en- 
emies could  charge  against  him. 

As  for  Ramerrez's  own  attitude  towards  the  life 
he  was  leading,  it  must  be  confessed  that,  the  plunge 
once  taken,  his  days  and  nights  were  too  full  of  ex- 
citement and  adventure  to  leave  him  time  to  brood. 
Somewhat  to  his  own  surprise,  he  had  inherited  his 
father's  power  of  iron  domination.  Young  as  he 
was,  not  one  of  his  father's  seasoned  band  of  cut- 
throats ever  questioned  his  right  or  his  ability  to  com- 
mand. At  first,  no  doubt,  they  followed  him 
through  a  rude  spirit  of  loyalty;  but  after  a  short  time 
it  was  because  they  had  found  in  him  all  the  qualities 
of  a  leader  of  men,  one  whose  plans  never  miscarried. 
Fully  two-thirds  of  the  present  band  were  vassals,  as 
it  were,  in  his  family,  while  all  were  of  Spanish  or 
Mexican  descent.  In  truth,  Ramerrez  himself  was 
the  only  one  among  them  who  had  any  gringo  blood 
in  his  veins.  And  hence  not  a  tale  of  the  outlaw's 
doings  was  complete  without  the  narrator  insisting 
upon  it  that  the  leader  of  the  band  —  the  road  agent 


58        GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

himself  —  closely  resembled  an  American.  One 
and  all  of  his  victims  agreed  that  he  spoke  with  an 
American  accent,  while  the  few  who  had  been  able 
to  see  his  features  on  a  certain  occasion  when  the  red 
bandanna,  which  he  wore  about  his  face,  had  fallen, 
never  failed  to  maintain  that  he  looked  like  an 
American. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  Ramerrez  not  only  bore  the 
imprint  of  his  mother's  race  in  features  and  in  speech, 
but  the  more  he  made  war  upon  them,  the  more  he 
realised  that  it  was  without  any  real  feeling  of  hos- 
tility. In  spite  of  his  early  training  and  in  spite  of 
his  oath,  he  could  not  share  his  father's  bitterness. 
True,  the  gringos  had  wrecked  the  fortunes  of  his 
house;  it  was  due  to  them  that  his  sole  inheritance 
was  an  outlaw's  name  and  an  outlaw's  leadership. 
And  yet,  despite  it  all,  there  was  another  fact  that 
he  could  not  forget, —  the  fact  that  he  himself  was 
one  half  gringo,  one  half  the  same  race  as  that  of 
the  unforgotten  Girl  whom  he  had  met  on  the  road 
to  Sacramento.  Indeed,  it  had  been  impossible  to 
forget  her,  for  she  had  stirred  some  depth  in  him, 
the  existence  of  which  he  had  never  before  suspected. 
He  was  haunted  by  the  thought  of  her  attractive 
face,  her  blue  eyes  and  merry,  contagious  laugh. 
For  the  hundredth  time  he  recalled  his  feelings  on 
that  glorious  day  when  he  had  intercepted  her  on  the 
great  highway.  And  with  this  memory  would  come 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST        59 

a  sudden  shame  of  himself  and  occupation, —  a  re- 
alisation of  the  barrier  which  he  had  deliberately 
put  between  the  present  and  the  past.  Up  to  the 
hour  when  he  had  parted  from  her,  and  had  remained 
spellbound,  seated  on  his  horse  at  the  fork  of  the 
roads,  watching  the  vanishing  coach  up  to  the  last 
minute,  he  was  still  a  Spanish  gentleman,  still  worthy 
in  himself, —  whatever  his  father  had  done, —  to  of- 
fer his  love  and  his  devotion  to  a  pure  and  honest 
girl.  But  now  he  was  an  outlaw,  a  road  agent  going 
from  one  robbery  to  another,  likely  at  any  time  to 
stain  his  hand  with  the  life-blood  of  a  fellow  man. 
And  this  pretence  that  he  was  stealing  in  a  righteous 
cause,  that  he  was  avenging  the  wrongs  that  had 
been  done  to  his  countrymen, —  why,  it  was  the  rank- 
est hypocrisy !  He  knew  in  his  heart  that  vengeance 
and  race  hatred  had  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  it. 
It  was  because  he  loved  it  like  a  game,  a  game  of  un- 
foreseen, unguessed  danger.  The  fever  of  it  was 
in  his  blood,  like  strong  drink, —  and  with  every 
day's  adventure,  the  thirst  for  it  grew  stronger. 

Yet,  however  personally  daring,  Ramerrez  was 
the  last  person  in  the  world  to  trust  to  chance  for  his 
operations,  more  than  was  absolutely  necessary.  He 
handled  his  men  with  shrewd  judgment  and  strict 
discipline.  Furthermore,  never  was  an  attack  made 
that  was  not  the  outcome  of  a  carefully  matured  plan. 
A  prime  factor  in  Ramerrez'  success  had  from  the 


60       GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

first  been  the  information  which  he  was  able  to  ob- 
tain from  the  Mexicans,  not  connected  with  his  band, 
concerning  the  places  that  the  miners  used  as  tem- 
porary depositories  for  their  gold;  and  it  was  infor- 
mation of  this  sort  that  led  Ramerrez  and  his  men 
to  choose  a  certain  Mexican  settlement  in  the  moun- 
tains as  a  base  of  operations:  namely,  the  tempting 
fact  that  a  large  amount  of  gold  was  stored  nightly 
in  the  Polka  Saloon,  at  the  neighbouring  camp  on 
Cloudy  Mountain. 

And  there  was  still  another  reason. 

Despite  the  fact  that  his  heart  had  been  genuinely 
touched  by  the  many  and  unusual  attractions  of  the 
Girl,  it  is  not  intended  to  convey  the  idea  that  he  was 
austere  or  incapable  of  passion  for  anyone  else.  For 
that  was  not  so.  Although,  to  give  the  bandit  his 
due,  he  had  remained  quite  exemplary,  when  one  con- 
siders his  natural  charm  as  well  as  the  fascination 
which  his  adventurous  life  had  for  his  country- 
women. Unfortunately,  however,  in  one  of  his 
weak  moments,  he  had  foolishly  permitted  himself  to 
become  entangled  with  a  Mexican  woman  —  Nina 
Micheltorefia,  by  name  —  whose  jealous  nature  now 
threatened  to  prove  a  serious  handicap  to  him.  It 
was  a  particularly  awkward  situation  in  which  he 
found  himself  placed,  inasmuch  as  this  woman  had 
furnished  him  with  much  valuable  information.  In 
fact,  it  was  she  who  had  called  his  attention  to  the 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST        61 

probable  spoils  to  be  had  in  the  American  camp 
near  by.  It  can  readily  be  imagined,  therefore,  that 
it  was  not  without  a  premonition  of  trouble  to  come 
that  he  sought  the  Mexican  settlement  with  the  in- 
tention of  paying  her  a  hundred-fold  for  her  val- 
uable assistance  in  the  past  and  then  be  through  with 
her  for  good  and  all. 

The  Mexican  or  greaser  settlements  had  little  in 
them  that  resembled  their  American  neighbours.  In 
the  latter  there  were  few  women,  for  the  long  dis- 
tance that  the  American  pioneers  had  to  travel  be- 
fore reaching  the  gold-fields  of  California,  the  hard- 
ships that  they  knew  had  to  be  encountered,  deterred 
them  rrom  bringing  their  wives  and  daughters.  But 
with  the  Mexicans  it  was  wholly  different.  The 
number  of  women  in  their  camps  almost  equalled 
that  of  the  men,  and  the  former  could  always  be 
seen,  whenever  the  weather  permitted,  strolling 
about  or  sitting  in  the  doorways  chatting  with  their 
neighbours,  while  children  were  everywhere.  In 
fact,  everything  about  the  Mexican  settlements  con- 
veyed the  impression  that  they  had  come  to  stay  —  a 
decided  contrast  to  the  transient  appearance  of  the 
camps  of  the  Americans. 

It  was  one  evening  late  in  the  fall  that  Ramerrez, 
and  his  band  halted  just  outside  of  this  particular 
Mexican  settlement.  And  after  instructing  his  men 


62        GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

where  they  should  meet  him  the  following  day,  he 
sent  them  off  to  enjoy  themselves  for  the  night  with 
their  friends.  For,  Ramerrez,  although  exercising 
restraint  over  his  band,  never  failed  to  see  to  it  that 
they  had  their  pleasures  as  well  as  their  duties  —  a 
trait  in  his  character  that  had  not  a  little  to  do  with 
his  great  influence  over  his  men.  And  so  it  hap- 
pened that  he  made  his  way  alone  up  the  main  street 
to  the  hall  where  a  dance  was  going  on. 

The  scene  that  met  his  eyes  on  entering  the  long, 
low  room  was  a  gay  one.  It  was  a  motley  crowd 
gathered  there  in  which  the  Mexicans,  not  unnatu- 
rally, predominated.  Here  and  there,  however,  were 
native  Californians,  Frenchmen,  Germans  and  a  few 
Americans,  the  latter  conspicuous  by  the  absence  of 
colour  in  their  dress;  for  with  the  exception  of  an 
occasional  coatless  man  in  a  red  or  blue  shirt,  they 
wore  faded,  old,  black  coats, —  frequently  frock- 
coats,  at  that, —  which  certainly  contrasted  unfavour- 
ably, at  least  so  far  as  heightening  the  gaiety  of  the 
scene  was  concerned,  with  the  green  velvet  jackets, 
brilliant  waistcoats  with  gold  filigree  and  silver  but- 
tons and  red  sashes  of  the  Mexicans.  That  there 
was  not  a  man  present  but  what  was  togged  out  in 
his  best  and  was  armed,  it  goes  without  saying,  even 
if  the  weapons  of  the  Mexicans  were  in  the  form  of 
murderous  knives  concealed  somewhere  about  their 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST        63 

persons  instead  of  belts  with  guns  and  knives  openly 
displayed,  as  was  the  case  with  the  Americans. 

At  the  time  of  the  outlaw's  entrance  into  the 
dance-hall  the  fandango  was  over.  But  presently 
the  fiddles,  accompanied  by  guitars,  struck  up  a 
waltz,  and  almost  instantly  some  twenty  or  more  men 
and  women  took  the  floor;  those  not  engaged  in 
dancing  surrounding  the  dancers,  clapping  their 
hands  and  shouting  their  applause.  In  order  to  see 
if  the  woman  he  sought  was  present,  it  was  neces- 
sary for  Ramerrez  to  push  to  the  very  front  of  the 
crowd  of  lookers-on,  where  he  was  not  long  in  ob- 
serving that  nearly  all  the  women  present  were  of 
striking  appearance  and  danced  well;  likewise,  he 
noted,  that  none  compared  either  in  looks  or  grace 
with  Nina  Micheltorefia  who,  he  had  to  acknowl- 
edge, even  if  his  feelings  for  her  were  dead,  was  a 
superb  specimen  of  a  woman. 

Good  blood  ran  in  the  veins  of  Nina  Michelto- 
refia. It  is  not  in  the  province  of  this  story  to  tell 
how  it  was  that  a  favourite  in  the  best  circles  of 
Monterey  came  to  be  living  in  a  Mexican  camp  in 
the  Sierras.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  her  fall  from  grace 
had  been  rapid,  though  her  dissolute  career  had  in 
no  way  diminished  her  beauty.  Indeed,  her  features 
were  well-nigh  perfect,  her  skin  transparently  clear, 
if  dark,  and  her  form  was  suppleness  itself  as  she 


64        GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

danced.  And  that  she  was  the  undisputed  belle  of 
the  evening  was  made  apparent  by  the  number  of 
men  who  watched  her  with  eyes  that  marvelled  at 
her  grace  when  dancing,  and  surrounded  her  when- 
ever she  stopped,  each  pleading  with  her  to  accept 
him  as  a  partner. 

Almost  every  colour  of  the  rainbow  had  a  place 
in  her  costume  for  the  occasion:  The  bodice  was  of 
light  blue  silk;  the  skirt  orange;  encircling  her  small 
waist  was  a  green  sash;  while  her  jet-black  hair  was 
fastened  with  a  crimson  ribbon.  Diamonds  flashed 
from  the  earrings  in  her  ears  as  well  as  from  the 
rings  on  her  fingers.  All  in  all,  it  was  scarcely  to 
be  wondered  at  that  her  charms  stirred  to  the  very 
depths  the  fierce  passion  of  the  desperate  characters 
about  her. 

That  Ramerrez  dreaded  the  interview  which  he 
had  determined  to  have  with  his  confederate  can 
easily  be  understood  by  anyone  who  has  ever  tried 
to  sever  his  relations  with  an  enamoured  woman. 
In  fact  the  outlaw  dreaded  it  so  much  that  he  de- 
cided to  postpone  it  as  long  as  he  could.  And  so, 
after  sauntering  aimlessly  about  the  room,  and  com- 
ing, unexpectedly,  across  a  woman  of  his  acquaint- 
ance, he  began  to  converse  with  her,  supposing,  all 
the  time,  that  Nina  Micheltorena  was  too  occupied 
with  the  worshippers  at  her  shrine  to  perceive  that 
he  was  in  the  dance-hall.  But  it  was  decidedly  a  case 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST        65 

of  the  wish  being  father  to  the  thought:  Not  a 
movement  had  he  made  since  he  entered  that  she 
was  not  cognisant  of  it  and,  although  she  hated  to  ac- 
knowledge it  to  herself,  deep  down  in  her  heart  she 
was  conscious  that  he  was  not  as  thoroughly  under 
the  sway  of  her  dark  eyes  as  she  would  have  wished. 
Something  had  happened  in  the  last  few  weeks  that 
had  brought  about  a  change  in  him,  but  just  what  it 
was  she  was  unable  to  determine.  There  were  mo- 
ments when  she  saw  plainly  that  he  was  much  more 
occupied  with  his  daring  plans  than  he  was  with 
thoughts  of  her.  So  far,  it  was  true,  there  had.  been 
no  evidences  on  his  part  of  any  hesitation  in  confid- 
ing his  schemes  to  her.  Of  that  she  was  positive. 
But,  on  the  other  hand,  she  had  undoubtedly  lost 
some  of  her  influence  over  him.  It  did  not  lessen 
her  nervousness  to  realise  that  he  had  been  in  the  hall 
for  some  time  without  making  any  effort  to  see  her. 
Besides,  the  appointment  had  been  of  his  own  mak- 
ing, inasmuch  as  he  had  sent  word  by  one  of  his 
band  that  she  should  meet  him  to-night  in  this  place. 
Furthermore,  she  knew  that  he  had  in  mind  one  of 
the  boldest  projects  he  had  yet  attempted  and 
needed,  to  insure  success,  every  scrap  of  knowledge 
that  she  possessed.  In  the  meantime,  while  she 
waited  for  him  to  seek  her  out,  she  resolved  to  show 
him  the  extent  of  her  power  to  fascinate  others; 
and  from  that  moment  never  had  she  seemed  more 


66       GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

attractive  and  alluring  to  her  admirers,  in  all  of 
whom  she  appeared  to  excite  the  fiercest  of  passions. 
In  fact,  one  word  whispered  in  an  ear  by  those 
voluptuous  lips  and  marvellously  sweet,  musical 
voice,  and  the  recipient  would  have  done  her  bidding, 
even  had  she  demanded  a  man's  life  as  the  price  of 
her  favour. 

It  is  necessary,  however,  to  single  out  one  man  as 
proving  an  exception  to  this  sweeping  assertion,  al- 
though this  particular  person  seemed  no  less  devoted 
than  the  other  men  present.  He  was  plainly  an 
American  and  apparently  a  stranger  to  his  country- 
men as  well  as  to  the  Mexicans.  His  hair  was  white 
and  closely  cropped,  the  eyebrows  heavy  and  very 
black,  the  lips  nervous  and  thin  but  denoting  great 
determination,  and  the  face  was  tanned  to  the  colour 
of  old  leather,  sufficiently  so  as  to  be  noticeable  even 
in  a  country  where  all  faces  were  tanned,  swarthy, 
and  dark.  One  would  have  thought  that  this  big, 
heavy,  but  extremely-active  man  whose  clothes,  not- 
withstanding the  wear  and  tear  of  the  road,  were 
plainly  cut  on  "  'Frisco  "  patterns,  was  precisely  the 
person  calculated  to  make  an  impression  upon  a 
woman  like  Nina  Micheltorefia;  and,  yet,  oddly 
enough,  he  was  the  only  man  in  the  room  whose  at- 
tentions seemed  distasteful  to  her.  It  could  not  be 
accounted  for  on  the  ground  of  his  nationality,  for 
she  danced  gladly  with  others  of  his  race.  Nor  did 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST        67 

it  look  like  caprice  on  her  part.  On  the  contrary, 
there  was  an  expression  on  her  face  that  resembled 
something  like  fear  when  she  refused  to  be  cajoled 
into  dancing  with  him.  At  length,  finding  her  ada- 
mant, the  man  left  the  room. 

But  as  time  went  by  and  still  Ramerrez  kept  aloof, 
Nina  Micheltorena's  excitement  began  to  increase 
immeasureably.  To  such  a  woman  the  outlaw's 
neglect  could  mean  but  one  thing  —  another 
woman.  And,  finally,  unable  to  control  herself  any 
longer,  she  made  her  way  to  where  the  woman  with 
whom  Ramerrez  had  been  conversing  was  standing 
alone. 

"  What  has  the  Senor  been  saying  to  you?  "  she 
demanded,  jealousy  and  ungovernable  passion  blaz- 
ing forth  from  her  eyes. 

"  Nothing  of  interest  to  you,"  replied  the  other 
with  a  shrug  of  her  shoulders. 

"  It's  a  lie !  "  burst  from  Nina's  lips.  "  I  heard 
him  making  love  to  you !  I  was  standing  near  and 
heard  every  tone,  every  inflection  of  his  voice!  I 
saw  how  he  looked  at  you !  "  And  so  crazed  was 
she  by  jealousy  that  her  face  became  distorted  and 
almost  ugly,  if  such  a  thing  were  possible,  and  her 
great  eyes  filled  with  hatred. 

The  other  woman  laughed  scornfully. 

"  Make  your  man  stay  away  from  me  then  —  if 
you  can,"  she  retorted. 


68        GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

At  that  the  infuriated  Nina  drew  a  knife  and 
cried: 

"  Swear  to  me  that  you'll  not  see  him  to-night, 
or  — " 

The  sentence  was  never  finished.  Quick  as  light- 
ning Ramerrez  stepped  in  and  caught  Nina's  up- 
raised arm.  For  one  instant  her  eyes  flashed  fire  at 
him;  another,  and  submissive  to  his  will,  she  slipped 
the  knife  somewhere  in  the  folds  of  her  dress  and 
the  attention  that  she  had  succeeded  in  attracting  was 
diverted  elsewhere.  Those  who  had  rushed  up  ex- 
pecting a  tragedy  returned,  once  more,  to  their 
dancing. 

"  I  have  been  looking  for  you,  Nina,"  he  said,  tak- 
ing her  to  one  side.  "  I  want  to  speak  with  you." 

Nina  laughed  airily,  but  only  another  woman 
would  have  been  able  to  detect  the  danger  lurking  in 
that  laugh. 

"  Have  you  just  come  in?  "  she  inquired  casually. 
"  It  is  generally  not  difficult  to  find  me  when  there 
is  dancing."  And  then  with  a  significant  smile: 
"  But  perhaps  there  were  so  many  men  about  me  that 
I  was  completely  hidden  from  the  view  of  the  Senor." 

Ramerrez  bowed  politely  his  belief  in  the  truth 
of  her  words;  then  he  said  somewhat  seriously: 

"  I  see  a  vacant  table  over  in  the  corner  where 
we  can  talk  without  danger  of  being  overheard. 
Come  1  "  He  led  the  way,  the  woman  following 


GIRr,  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST        69 

him,  to  a  rough  table  of  pine  at  the  farther  end  of  the 
room  where,  immediately,  a  bottle  and  two  glasses 
were  placed  before  them.  When  they  had  pledged 
each  other,  Ramerrez  went  on  to  say,  in  a  low  voice, 
that  he  had  made  the  appointment  in  order  to  de- 
liver to  her  her  share  for  the  information  that  led  to 
his  successful  holdup  of  the  stage  at  a  place  known  as 
"  The  Forks,"  a  few  miles  back;  and  taking  from  his 
pocket  a  sack  of  gold  he  placed  it  on  the  table  be- 
fore her. 

There  was  a  silence  in  which  Nina  made  no  move- 
ment to  pick  up  the  gold;  whereupon,  Ramerrez  re- 
peated a  little  harshly: 

"  Your  share." 

Slowly  the  woman  rose,  picking  up  the  sack  as 
she  did  so,  and  with  a  request  that  he  await  her,  she 
made  her  way  over  to  the  bar  where  she  handed  it  to 
the  Mexican  in  charge  with  a  few  words  of  instruc- 
tion. In  another  moment  she  was  again  seated  at 
the  table  with  him. 

"  Why  did  you  send  for  me  to  meet  you  here?  " 
she  now  asked.  "  Why  did  you  not  come  to  my 
room  —  surely  you  knew  that  there  was  danger 
here?" 

Carelessly,  Ramerrez  let  his  eyes  wander  about 
the  room;  no  one  was  paying  the  slightest  attention 
to  them  and,  apparently,  there  being  nothing  to  fear, 
he  answered: 


70        GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

"From  whom?" 

For  a  brief  space  of  time  the  woman  looked  at 
him  as  if  she  would  ferret  out  his  innermost 
thoughts;  at  length,  she  said  with  a  shrug  of  the 
shoulders: 

"  Few  here  are  to  be  thoroughly  trusted.  The 
woman  you  were  with  —  she  knows  you?  " 

"  I  never  met  her  but  once  before,"  was  his  la- 
conic rejoinder. 

Nina  eyed  him  suspiciously;  at  last  she  was  satis- 
fied that  he  spoke  the  truth,  but  there  was  still  that 
cold,  abstracted  manner  of  his  to  be  explained. 
However,  cleverly  taking  her  cue  from  him  she  in- 
quired in  business-like  tones: 

"  And  how  about  The  Polka  Saloon  —  the  raid 
on  Cloudy  Mountain  Camp  ?  " 

A  shade  of  annoyance  crossed  Ramerrez'  face. 

"  I  have  decided  to  give  that  up  —  at  least  for  a 
time." 

Again  Nina  regarded  him  curiously;  when  she 
spoke  there  was  a  suspicious  gleam  in  her  eyes, 
though  she  said  lightly: 

"  Perhaps  you're  right  —  it  will  not  be  an  easy 
job." 

"  Far  from  it,"  quickly  agreed  the  man.  "  But 
the  real  reason  is,  that  I  have  planned  to  go  below 
for  a  while." 

The  woman's  eyes  narrowed. 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST        71 

"  You  are  going  away  then  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  And  what  about  me  ?     Do  I  go  with  you  ?  " 

Ramerrez  laughed  uneasily. 

"  It  is  impossible.  The  fact  is,  it  is  best  that  this 
should  be  our  last  meeting."  And  seeing  the  change 
that  came  over  her  face  he  went  on  in  more  concili- 
atory tones :  "  Now,  Nina,  be  reasonable.  It  is 
time  that  we  understood  each  other.  This  interview 
must  be  final." 

"  And  you  came  here  to  tell  me  this?  "  blazed  the 
woman,  scowling  darkly  upon  him.  And  for  the 
moment  she  looked  all  that  she  was  reputed  to  be  — 
a  dangerous  woman! 

Receiving  no  answer,  she  spoke  again. 

"  But  you  said  that  you  would  love  me  always?  " 

The  man  flushed. 

"  Did  I  say  that  once  ?  What  a  memory  you 
have!" 

"  And  you  never  meant  it?  " 

"  I  suppose  so  —  at  the  time." 

"  Then  you  don't  love  me  any  more?  " 

Ramerrez  made  no  answer. 

For  some  moments  Nina  sat  perfectly  still.  Her 
mind  was  busy  trying  to  determine  upon  the  best 
course  to  pursue.  At  length  she  decided  to  make 
one  more  attempt  to  see  whether  he  was  really  in 
earnest.  And  if  not 


72        GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

"  But  to-night,"  she  hazarded,  leaning  far  over 
the  table  and  putting  her  face  close  to  his,  her  eyes 
the  while  flooded  with  voluptuousness,  "  you  will 
come  with  me  to  my  room?  " 

Ramerrez  shook  his  head. 

"  No,  Nina,  all  that  is  over." 

The  woman  bit  her  lips  with  vexation. 

"Are  you  made  of  stone?  What  is  the  matter 
with  you  to-night?  Is  there  anything  wrong  with 
my  beauty?  Have  you  seen  anyone  handsomer  than 
lam?" 

"No     .     .     ." 

"  Then  why  not  come?     You  don't  hate?" 

"  I  don't  hate  you  in  the  least,  but  I  won't  go  to 
your  room." 

"So!" 

There  was  a  world  of  meaning  in  that  one  word. 
For  a  while  she  seemed  to  be  reflecting;  suddenly 
with  great  earnestness  she  said: 

"  Once  for  all,  Ramerrez,  listen  to  me.  Rather 
than  give  you  up  to  any  other  woman  I  will  give  you 
up  to  death.  Now  do  you  still  refuse  me?  " 

"  Yes.  .  .  ."  answered  Ramerrez  not  unkindly 
and  wholly  unmoved  by  her  threat.  "  We've  been 
good  pals,  Nina,  but  it's  best  for  both  that  we  should 
part." 

In  the  silence  that  ensued  the  woman  did  some 
hard  thinking.  That  a  man  could  ever  tire  of  her 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST        73 

without  some  other  woman  coming  into  his  life  never 
once  entered  into  her  mind.  Something  told  her, 
nevertheless,  that  the  woman  with  whom  he  had 
been  conversing  was  not  the  woman  that  she  sought ; 
and  at  a  loss  to  discover  the  person  to  whom  he  had 
transferred  his  affections,  her  mind  reverted  to  his 
avowed  purpose  of  withdrawing  from  the  proposed 
Cloudy  Mountain  expedition.  The  more  Nina  re- 
flected on  that  subject  the  more  convinced  she  be- 
came that,  for  some  reason  or  other,  Ramerrez  had 
been  deceiving  her.  It  was  made  all  the  more  clear 
to  her  when  she  recalled  that  when  Ramerrez'  mes- 
senger had  brought  his  master's  message  that  she 
was  to  meet  him,  she  had  asked  where  the  band's 
next  rendezvous  was  to  be,  and  that  he,  knowing  full 
well  that  his  countrywoman  had  ever  been  cognizant 
of  his  master's  plans,  had  freely  given  the  desired  in- 
formation. Like  a  flash  it  came  to  her  now  that  no 
such  meeting-place  would  have  been  selected  for  any 
undertaking  other  than  a  descent  upon  Cloudy  Moun- 
tain Camp.  Nor  was  her  intuition  or  reasoning  at 
fault:  Ramerrez  had  not  given  up  his  intention  of 
getting  the  miners'  gold  that  he  knew  from  her  to  be 
packed  away  somewhere  in  The  Polka  Saloon;  but 
what  she  did  not  suspect,  despite  his  peculiar  be- 
haviour, was  that  he  had  taken  advantage  of  the 
proximity  of  the  two  camps  to  sever  his  relation, 
business  and  otherwise,  with  her.  And  yet,  did  he 


74       GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

but  know  it,  she  was  destined  to  play  no  small  part 
in  'his  life  for  the  next  few  weeks ! 

Nina  Micheltorena  had  now  decided  upon  her  fu- 
ture course  of  action :  She  would  let  him  think  that 
his  desire  to  break  off  all  relations  with  her  "would 
not  be  opposed.  Ever  a  keen  judge  of  men  and 
their  ways,  she  was  well  aware  that  any  effort  to  re- 
claim him  to-night  would  meet  with  disaster.  And 
so  when  Ramerrez,  surprised  at  her  long  silence, 
looked  up,  he  was  met  with  a  smiling  face  and  the 
words  : 

"  So  be  it,  Ramerrez.  But  if  anything  happens, 
remember  you  have  only  yourself  to  blame." 

Ramerrez  was  astounded  at  her  cool  dismissal  of 
the  subject.  To  judge  by  the  expression  on  his  face 
he  had  indeed  obtained  his  release  far  easier  than  he 
had  deemed  it  possible.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  her  in- 
difference so  piqued  him  that  before  he  was  conscious 
of  his  words  he  had  asked  somewhat  lamely: 

"  You  wish  me  well?     We  part  as  friends?  " 

Nina  regarded  him  with  well-simulated  surprise, 
and  replied: 

"  Why,  of  course  —  the  best  of  friends.  Good 
luck,  amigo!  "  And  with  that  she  rose  and  left  him. 

And  so  it  was  that  later  that  evening  after  assuring 
herself  that  neither  Ramerrez  nor  any  of  his  band 
remained  in  the  dance-hall,  Nina,  her  face  set  and 
pale,  exchanged  a  few  whispered  words  with  that 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST        75 

same  big  man  towards  whom,  earlier  in  the  evening, 
she  had  shown  such  animosity. 

The  effect  of  these  words  was  magical;  the  man 
could  not  suppress  a  grunt  of  intense  satisfaction. 

"  She  says  I'm  to  meet  her  to-morrow  night  at  the 
Palmetto  Restaurant,"  said  Ashby  to  himself  after 
the  woman  had  lost  herself  in  a  crowd  of  her  own 
countrymen.  "  She  will  tell  where  I  can  put  my 
hands  on  this  Ramerrez.  Bah!  It's  too  good  to 
be  true.  Nevertheless,  I'll  be  on  hand,  my  lady,  for 
if  anyone  knows  of  this  fellow's  movements  I'll  wa- 
ger you  do." 

At  that  moment  Ashby,  the  Wells  Fargo  Agent, 
was  nearer  than  ever  before  to  the  most  brilliant 
capture  of  all  his  career. 

Late  the  following  afternoon,  some  five  miles 
from  the  Mexican  settlement,  on  a  small  tableland 
high  above  a  black  ravine  which  was  thickly  timbered 
with  the  giant  trees  of  the  Sierras,  Ramerrez'  band 
was  awaiting  the  coming  of  the  Maestro.  It  was  not 
to  be  a  long  wait  and  they  stood  around  smoking  and 
talking  in  low  tones.  Suddenly,  the  sound  of  horses 
climbing  was  heard,  and  soon  a  horseman  came  in 
sight  whose  appearance  had  the  effect  of  throwing 
them  instantly  into  a  state  of  excitement,  one  and 
all  drawing  their  guns  and  making  a  dash  for  their 
horses,  which  were  tied  to  trees.  A  moment  later, 


76        GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

however,  another  horseman  appeared,  and  laughing 
boisterously  at  themselves  they  slid  their  guns  back 
into  their  belts  and  retied  their  horses,  for  the  man 
whom  they  recognised  so  quickly,  the  individ :?.!  who 
saved  the  situation,  as  it  were,  was  none  other  than 
Jose  Castro,  an  ex-padrona  of  the  bull-fights  and  the 
second  in  command  to  Ramerrez.  He  was  a  wiry, 
hard-faced  and  shifty-eyed  Mexican,  but  was  as  thor- 
oughly devoted  to  Ramerrez  as  he  had  been  to  the 
young  leader's  father.  On  the  other  hand,  the  man 
who  had  caused  them  to  fear  that  a  stranger  had  sur- 
prised them,  and  that  they  had  been  trapped,  was 
Ramerrez  or  Johnson  —  the  name  that  he  had  as- 
sumed for  the  dangerous  work  he  was  about  to  en- 
gage in  —  and  they  had  failed  to  know  him,  dressed 
as  he  was  in  the  very  latest  fashion  prevailing  among 
the  Americans  in  Sacramento  in  '49.  Nor  was  it  to 
be  wondered  at,  for  on  his  head  was  a  soft,  brown 
hat  —  large,  but  not  nearly  the  proportions  of  a 
sombrero;  a  plain,  rough  tweed  coat  and  a  waistcoat 
of  a  darker  tan,  which  showed  a  blue  flannel  shirt  be- 
neath it;  and  his  legs  were  encased  in  boots  topped 
by  dark  brown  leggings.  In  a  word,  his  get-up  re- 
sembled closely  the  type  of  American  referred  to 
disdainfully  by  the  miners  of  that  time  as  a  Sacra- 
mento guy;  whereas,  the  night  before  he  had  taken 
great  pains  to  attire  himself  as  gaudily  as  any  of  the 
Mexicans  at  the  dance,  and  he  had  worn  a  short  black 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST        77 

jacket  of  a  velvety  material  that  was  not  unlike  cor- 
duroy and  covered  with  braid;  his  breeches  were  of 
the  same  stuff;  above  his  boots  were  leather  gaiters; 
and  around  his  waist  was  a  red  sash. 

It  was  now  close  to  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon 
and  the  band  began  their  preparations  for  the  raid. 
To  the  rear  of  the  small,  open  space  where  they  had 
been  waiting  was  a  fairly  good-sized  cave,  in  the 
opening  of  which  they  deposited  various  articles  un- 
necessary for  the  expedition.  It  took  only  a  short 
time  to  do  this,  and  within  half  an  hour  from  the 
time  that  their  leader  had  so  startled  them  by  his 
strange  appearance,  the  outlaws  were  ready  to  take 
the  trail  for  Cloudy  Mountain.  One  comprehensive 
glance  the  psuedo-American  —  and  he  certainly 
looked  the  part  —  shot  at  his  picturesque,  if  rough- 
looking  followers,  not  a  few  of  whom  showed  red 
bandannas  under  their  sombreros  or  around  their 
necks  —  and  then  with  a  satisfied  expression  on  his 
face  —  for  he  had  a  leader's  pride  in  his  men  —  he 
gave  the  signal  and  led  the  way  along  and  down  the 
steep  trail  from  the  tableland.  And  as  from  time 
to  time  he  glanced  back  over  his  shoulders  to  where 
the  men  were  coming  along  in  single  file,  he  could 
see  that  in  every  eye  was  a  glint  of  exultation  at  the 
prospect  of  booty. 

After  they  had  gone  about  three  miles  they 
crossed  the  black  ravine,  and  from  there  they  began 


78        GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

to  ascend.  Up  and  up  they  went,  the  path  very  hard 
on  the  horses,  until  finally  they  came  to  the  top  of  a 
pass  where  it  had  been  arranged  that  the  band  should 
await  further  instructions,  none  going  on  further  save 
the  two  leaders.  Here,  saddle-girths  and  guns  were 
inspected,  the  last  orders  given,  and  with  a  wave  of 
the  hand  in  response  to  the  muttered  wishes  of  good 
luck,  Johnson, —  for  as  such  he  will  be  known  from 
this  time  on, —  followed  by  Castro,  made  his  way 
through  the  forest  towards  Cloudy  Mountain. 

For  an  hour  or  so  Johnson  rode  along  in  that  di- 
rection, checking  the  speed  of  his  horse  every  time 
the  sun  came  into  view  and  showed  that  there  was  yet 
some  time  before  sunset.  Presently,  he  made  a  sign, 
to  Castro  to  take  the  lead,  for  he  had  never  been  in 
this  locality  before,  and  was  relying  on  his  subordi- 
nate to  find  a  spot  from  which  he  could  reconnoitre 
the  scene  of  the  proposed  raid  without  the  slightest 
danger  of  meeting  any  of  the  miners. 

At  a  very  sharp  turn  of  the  road  to  the  left  Castro 
struck  off  through  the  forest  to  the  right  and,  within 
a  few  minutes,  reached  a  place  where  the  trees  had 
thinned  out  and  were  replaced  by  the  few  scrubs  that 
grew  in  a  spot  almost  barren.  A  minute  or  so  more 
and  the  two  men,  their  horses  tied,  were  able  to  get 
an  uninterrupted  view  of  Cloudy  Mountain. 

The  scene  before  them  was  one  of  grandeur.  Day 
was  giving  place  to  night,  fall  to  winter,  and  yet  at 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST        79 

this  hour  all  the  winds  were  stilled.  In  the  distance 
gleamed  the  snow-capped  Sierras,  range  after  range 
as  far  as  the  eye  could  see  to  the  northwest;  in  the 
opposite  direction  there  stood  out  against  the  steel- 
blue  of  the  sky  a  succession  of  wooded  peaks  ever 
rising  higher  and  higher  until  culminating  in  the  far- 
away white  mountains  of  the  south ;  and  below,  they 
looked  upon  a  ravine  that  was  brownish-green  until 
the  rays  of  the  departing  orb  touched  the  leaves  with 
opal  tints. 

Now  the  fast-falling  sun  flung  its  banner  of  gor- 
geous colours  across  the  western  sky.  Immediately  a 
wonderful  light  played  upon  the  fleecy  cumuli  gath- 
ered in  the  upper  heavens  of  the  east  and  changed 
them  from  pearl  to  brilliant  scarlet.  For  a  moment, 
also,  the  purple  hills  became  wonderful  piles  of  dull 
gold  and  copper;  a  moment  more  and  the  magic 
hand  of  the  King  of  Day  was  withdrawn. 

In  front  of  them  now,  dark,  gloomy  and  threaten- 
ing rose  Cloudy  Mountain,  from  which  the  Mining 
Camp  took  its  name ;  and  on  a  plateau  near  its  base 
the  camp  itself  could  plainly  be  seen.  It  consisted 
of  a  group  of  miners'  cabins  set  among  pines,  firs 
and  manzaneta  bushes  with  two  larger  pine-slab 
buildings,  and  scattered  around  in  various  places 
were  shafts,  whose  crude  timber-hoists  appeared 
merely  as  vague  outlines  in  the  fast-fading  light. 
The  distance  to  the  camp  from  where  they  stood 


8o       GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

was  not  over  three  miles  as  the  crow  flies,  but  it  ap- 
peared much  less  in  the  rarefied  atmosphere. 

As  the  two  bandits  stood  on  the  edge  of  the  preci- 
pice looking  across  and  beyond  the  intervening  gulch 
or  ravine,  here  and  there  a  light  twinkled  out  from 
the  cabins  and,  presently,  a  much  stronger  illumina- 
tion shot  forth  from  one  of  the  larger  and  more  pre- 
tentious buildings.  Castro  was  quick  to  call  his  mas- 
ter's attention  to  it. 

"  There  —  that  place  with  the  light  is  The  Pal- 
metto Hotel  I  "  he  exclaimed.  "  And  over  there  — 
the  one  with  the  larger  light  is  The  Polka  Saloon !  " 
For  even  as  he  spoke  the  powerful  kerosene  lamp 
of  The  Polka  Saloon,  flanked  by  a  composition 
metal  reflector,  flashed  out  its  light  into  the  gloom  en- 
veloping the  desolate,  ominous-looking  mountains. 

Johnson  regarded  this  building  long  and  thought- 
fully. Then  his  eyes  made  out  a  steep  trail  which 
zigzagged  from  The  Polka  Saloon  up  the  barren 
slopes  of  the  mountain  until  it  reached  a  cabin 
perched  on  the  very  top,  the  steps  and  porch  of 
which  were  held  up  by  poles  made  of  trees.  There, 
also,  a  light  could  be  seen,  but  dimly.  It  was  a 
strange  place  for  anyone  to  erect  a  dwelling-place, 
and  he  found  himself  wondering  what  manner  of 
person  dwelt  there.  Of  one  thing  he  was  certain: 
whoever  it  was  the  mountains  were  loved  for  them- 
selves, for  no  mere  digger  of  gold  would  think  of 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST        81 

erecting  a  habitation  in  view  of  those  strange,  vast, 
and  silent  heights! 

And  as  he  meditated  thus,  he  perceived  that  the  far 
off  Sierras  were  forming  a  background  for  a  sinuous 
coil  of  smoke  from  the  cabin.  For  some  time  he 
watched  it  curling  up  into  the  great  arch  of  sky. 
It  was  as  if  he  were  hypnotised  by  it  and,  in  a  vague, 
shadowy  way,  he  had  a  sense  of  being  connected, 
somehow,  with  the  little  cabin  and  its  recluse.  Was 
this  feeling  that  he  had  a  premonition  of  danger? 
Was  this  a  moment  of  foreboding  and  distrust  of  the 
situation  yet  to  be  revealed?  For  like  most  ven- 
turesome men  he  always  had  a  moment  before  every 
one  of  his  undertakings  in  which  his  instinct  either 
urged  him  forward  or  held  him  back. 

Suddenly  he  became  conscious  that  his  eyes  no 
longer  saw  the  smoke.  He  stared  hard  to  glimpse 
it,  but  it  was  gone.  And  with  a  supreme  effort  he 
wrenched  himself  free  from  a  sort  of  paralysis  which 
was  stealing  away  his  senses. 

Now  the  light  in  the  cabin  disappeared,  and 
since  the  shades  of  night,  for  which  he  had  been 
waiting,  had  fallen,  he  called  to  the  impatient  and 
wondering  Castro,  and  together  they  went  back  to 
the  trail. 

But  even  as  they  crossed  the  gulch  and  reached 
the  outskirts  of  the  camp  a  great  white  moon  rose 
from  behind  the  Sierras.  To  Castro,  hidden  now 


82        GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

in  the  pines,  it  meant  nothing  so  long  as  it  did 
not  interfere  with  his  purpose.  As  a  matter  of  fact 
he  was  already  listening  intently  to  the  bursts  of 
song  and  shouts  of  revelry  that  came  every  now  and 
then  from  the  nearby  saloon.  But  his  master,  un- 
accountably under  the  spell  of  the  moon's  mystery 
and  romance,  watched  it  until  it  shed  its  silvery  and 
magic  light  upon  the  lone  cabin  on  the  top  of  Cloudy 
Mountain,  which  Fate  had  chosen  for  the  decisive 
scene  of  his  dramatic  life. 


INSIDE  The  Polka,  not  a  bit  more,  and  not  a  bit  less 
sardonic  —  it  was  this  imperturbability  which  made 
him  so  resistless  to  most  people  —  than  he  was  prior 
to  the  banishment  of  The  Sidney  Duck,  the  Sheriff 
of  Manzaneta  County  waited  patiently  until  the  re- 
turning puppets  of  his  will  had  had  time  to  compose 
themselves.  It  took  them  merely  the  briefest  of 
periods,  but  it  served  to  increase  visibly  the  long 
ash  at  the  end  of  Ranee's  cigar.  At  length  he  shot 
a  hawk-like  glance  at  Sonora  and  proposed  a  little 
game  of  poker. 

u  This  time,  gentlemen  — "  he  said,  with  a  signifi- 
cant pause  and  accent  — "  just  for  social  recreation. 
What  do  you  say?  " 

"  I'm  your  Injun  I  "  acquiesced  Sonora,  rubbing 
his  hands  together  gleefully  at  the  prospect  of  win- 
ning from  the  Sheriff,  whom  he  liked  none  too  well. 

"  That's  me,  too !  "  concurred  Trinidad. 

"Chips,  then,  Nick!"  called  out  the  Sheriff, 
quietly  taking  a  seat  at  the  table;  while  Sonora,  bub- 
bling over  with  spirits,  hitched  up  his  trousers  in 
sailor  fashion  and  executed  an  impromptu  hornpipe, 
bellowing  in  his  deep,  base  voice : 

"  /  shipped  aboard  of  a  liner  t  boys  — " 
83 


84        GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

"  Renzo,  boys,  renzo,"  finished  Trinidad,  falling 
in  place  at  the  table. 

At  this  point  the  outside  door  was  unexpectedly 
pushed  open,  inward,  and  the  Deputy-Sheriff  came 
into  their  midst. 

"  Ashby  just  rode  in  with  his  posse,"  he  announced 
huskily  to  his  superior. 

The  Sheriff  flashed  a  look  of  annoyance  and  in- 
quired of  the  gaunt,  hollow-cheeked,  muscular  Deputy 
whose  beaver  overcoat  was  thrown  open  so  that  his 
gun  and  powder-flask  showed  plainly  in  his  belt: 

"  Why,  what's  he  doing  here?  " 

"  He's  after  Ramerrez,"  answered  the  Deputy, 
eyeing  him  intently. 

Ranee  received  this  information  in  silence  and  went 
on  with  his  shuffling  of  the  cards;  presently,  uncon- 
cernedly, he  remarked: 

"  Ramerrez  —  Oh,  that's  the  polite  road  agent 
who  has  been  visiting  the  other  camps?  " 

"Yes;  he's  just  turned  into  your  county,"  de- 
clared the  Deputy,  meaningly. 

"What?"  Sonora  looked  dumbfounded. 

The  Deputy  nodded  and  proceeded  to  the  bar. 
And  while  he  drained  the  contents  of  his  glass,  the 
Minstrel  played  on  his  banjo,  much  to  the  amuse- 
ment of  the  men,  who  showed  their  appreciation  by 
laughing  heartily,  the  last  bars  of,  "  Pop  Goes  the 
Weasel." 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST        85 

"  Hello,  Sheriff !  "  greeted  Ashby,  coming  in  just 
as  the  merriment  over  the  Minstrel's  little  joke  had 
died  away.  Ashby's  voice  —  quick,  sharp  and  de- 
cisive —  was  that  of  a  man  accustomed  to  ordering 
men,  but  his  manner  was  suave,  if  a  trifle  gruff. 
Moreover,  he  was  a  man  of  whom  it  could  be  said, 
paradoxical  as  it  may  seem,  that  he  was  never  known 
to  be  drunk  nor  ever  known  to  be  sober.  It  was 
plain  from  his  appearance  that  he  had  been  some 
time  on  the  road. 

Ranee  rose  and  politely  extended  his  hand.  And, 
although  the  greeting  between  the  two  men  was 
none  too  cordial,  yet  in  their  look,  as  they  eyed  each 
other,  was  the  respect  which  men  have  for  others  en- 
gaged more  or  less  in  the  same  business  and  in  whom 
they  recognise  certain  qualities  which  they  have  in 
common.  In  point  of  age  Ashby  was,  perhaps,  the 
senior.  As  far  as  reputation  was  concerned,  both 
men  were  accounted  nervy  and  square.  Ranee  in- 
troduced him  to  Sonora  and  the  others,  saying: 

"  Boys,  Mr.  Ashby  of  Wells  Fargo." 

The  latter  had  a  pleasant  word  or  two  for  the  men ; 
then,  turning  to  the  Deputy,  he  said : 

"  And  how  are  you  these  days?  " 

"Fit.     And  yourself?" 

"  Same  here."  Turning  now  to  the  barkeeper, 
Ashby,  with  easy  familiarity,  added:  "Say,  Nick, 
give  us  a  drink." 


86       GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

"  Sure ! "  came  promptly  from  the  little  bar- 
keeper. 

"  Everybody  '11  have  the  same?  "  inquired  Ashby, 
turning  once  more  to  the  men. 

"  The  same  I  "  returned  the  men  in  chorus. 

Thereupon,  Nick  briskly  slapped  down  a  bottle 
and  four  glasses  before  the  Sheriff,  and  leaving  him 
to  do  the  honours,  disappeared  into  the  dance-hall. 

"  Well,  I  trust  the  Girl  who  runs  The  Polka  is 
well?"  inquired  Ashby,  pushing  his  glass  near  the 
bottle. 

"  Fine  as  silk,"  vouched  Sonora,  adding  in  the 
next  breath :  "  But,  say,  Mr.  Ashby,  how  long  you 
been  chasin'  up  this  road  agent?" 

"  Oh,  he  only  took  to  the  road  a  few  months  ago," 
was  Ashby's  answer.  "  Wells  Fargo  have  had  me 
and  a  posse  busy  ever  since.  He's  a  wonder!  " 

"  Must  be  to  evade  you,"  complimented  Sonora, 
much  to  the  discomfort  of  the  Sheriff. 

"  Yes,  I  can  smell  a  road  agent  in  the  wind,"  de- 
clared Ashby  somewhat  boastfully.  "  But,  Ranee, 
I  expect  to  get  that  fellow  right  here  in  your  county." 

The  Sheriff  looked  as  if  he  scouted  the  idea,  and 
was  about  to  speak,  but  checked  the  word  on  his 
tongue.  Then  followed  a  short  silence  in  which  the 
Deputy,  smiling  a  trifle  derisively,  went  out  of  the 
saloon. 

"Is    this    fellow    a    Spaniard?"    questioned    the 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST       87j 

Sheriff,  drawling  as  usual,  but  at  the  same  time  jerk- 
ing his  thumb  over  his  shoulder  towards  a  placard 
on  the  wall,  which  read: 

"  FIVE  THOUSAND  DOLLARS  RE- 
WARD FOR  THE  ROAD  AGENT 
RAMERREZ,  OR  INFORMATION 
LEADING  TO  HIS  CAPTURE. 

(SIGNED)     WELLS  FARGO." 

"  No  —  can't  prove  it.  The  fact  of  his  leading 
a  crew  of  greasers  and  Spaniards  signifies  nothing. 
His  name  is  assumed,  I  suppose." 

"  They  say  he  robs  you  like  a  gentleman,"  re- 
marked Ranee  with  some  show  of  interest. 

"  Well,  look  out  for  the  greasers  up  the  road !  " 
was  Ashby's  warning  as  he  emptied  his  glass  and 
put  it  down  before  him. 

"  We  don't  let  them  pass  through  here,"  shrugged 
Ranee,  likewise  putting  down  his  glass  on  the  table. 

Ashby  now  picked  up  the  whisky  bottle  and  car- 
ried it  over  to  the  deserted  faro  table  before  which 
he  settled  himself  comfortably  in  a  chair. 

"  Well,  boys,  I've  had  a  long  ride  —  wake  me  up 
when  The  Pony  Express  goes  through !  "  he  called 
over  his  shoulder  as  he  put  his  coat  over  him. 

But  no  sooner  was  he  comfortably  ensconced  for 
a  snooze  than  Nick  came  bustling  in  with  a  kettle 
of  boiling  water  and  several  glasses  half-filled  with 


88       GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

whisky  and  lemon.  Stopping  before  Ashby  he  said 
in  his  best  professional  manner: 

"  Re-gards  of  the  Girl  —  hot  whisky  straight 
with  lemming  extract." 

Ashby  took  up  his  glass,  as  did,  in  turn,  the  men  at 
the  other  table.  But  it  was  Ranee  who,  with  arm 
uplifted,  toasted: 

"  The  Girl,  gentlemen,  the  only  Girl  in  Camp,  the 
Girl  I  mean  to  make  Mrs.  Jack  Ranee !  " 

Confident  that  neither  would  catch  him  in  the  act, 
Nick  winked  first  at  Sonora  and  then  at  Trinidad. 
That  the  little  barkeeper  was  successful  in  making 
the  former,  at  least,  believe  that  he  possessed  the 
Girl's  affections  was  manifested  by  the  big  miner's 
next  remark. 

"  That's  a  joke,  Ranee.  She  makes  you  look  like 
a  Chinaman." 

Ranee  sprang  to  his  feet,  white  with  rage. 

"  You  prove  that !  "  he  shouted. 

"In  what  particular  spot  will  you  have  it?" 
taunted  Sonora,  as  his  hand  crept  for  his  gun. 

Simultaneously  every  man  in  the  room  made  a 
dash  for  cover.  Nick  ducked  behind  the  bar,  for, 
as  he  told  himself  when  safely  settled  there,  he  was 
too  old  a  bird  to  get  anywhere  near  the  line  of  fire 
when  two  old  stagers  got  to  making  lead  fly  about. 
Nor  was  Trinidad  slow  in  arriving  at  the  other  end 
of  the  bar  where  he  caromed  against  Jake,  who  had 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST        89 

dropped  his  banjo  and  was  frantically  trying  to  kick 
the  spring  of  the  iron  shield  in  an  endeavour  to  pro- 
tect himself  —  a  feat  which,  at  last,  he  succeeded  in 
performing.  But,  fortunately,  for  all  concerned, 
as  the  two  men  stood  eyeing  each  other,  their  hands 
on  their  hips  ready  to  draw,  Nick,  from  his  position 
behind  the  bar,  glimpsed  through  the  window  the 
Girl  on  the  point  of  entering  the  saloon. 

"  Here  comes  the  Girl ! "  he  cried  excitedly. 
"  Aw,  leave  your  guns  alone  —  take  your  drinks, 
quick!" 

For  a  fraction  of  a  second  the  men  looked  sheep- 
ishly at  one  another,  even  Nick  appearing  a  trifle 
uncomfortable,  as  he  picked  up  the  kettle  and  went 
off  with  it. 

"  Once  more  we're  friends,  eh,  boys?  "  said  Ranee, 
with  a  forced  laugh;  and  then  as  he  lifted  his  glass 
high  in  the  air,  he  gave  the  toast : 

"The  Girl!" 

"The  Girl!"  repeated  all  —  all  save  Ashby, 
whose  snores  by  this  time  could  be  heard  throughout 
the  big  room  —  and  drained  their  glasses. 


VI 


THERE  was  a  general  movement  towards  the  bar 
when  the  fair  proprietress  of  The  Polka,  who  had 
lingered  longer  than  usual  in  her  little  cabin  on  top 
of  the  mountain,  breezily  entered  the  place  by  the 
main  door.  In  a  coarse,  blue  skirt,  and  rough,  white 
flannel  blouse,  cut  away  and  held  in  place  at  the 
throat  by  a  crimson  ribbon,  the  Girl  made  a  pretty 
picture;  it  was  not  difficult  to  see  why  the  boys  of 
Cloudy  Mountain  Camp  had  a  feeling  which  fell  lit- 
tle short  of  adoration  for  this  sun-browned  maid, 
with  the  spirit  of  the  mountain  in  her  eyes.  That 
each  in  his  own  way  had  given  her  to  understand 
that  he  was  desperately  smitten  with  her,  goes  with- 
out saying.  But,  although  she  accepted  their  rough 
homage  as  a  matter  of  course,  such  a  thought  as  fall- 
ing in  love  with  anyone  of  them  had  never  entered 
her  mind. 

As  far  back,  almost,  as  she  could  remember,  the 
Girl  had  lived  among  them  and  had  ever  been  a 
true  comrade,  sharing  their  disappointments  and 
thrilling  with  their  successes.  Of  a  nature  pure  and 
simple,  she  was,  nevertheless,  frank  and  outspoken. 
Moreover,  she  knew  to  a  dot  what  was  meant  when 
someone  —  bolder  than  his  mates  —  stretched  out 
his  arms  to  her.  One  such  exhibition  on  a  man's 
90 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST        91 

part  she  was  likely  to  forgive  and  forget,  but  the 
wrath  and  scorn  that  had  blazed  forth  from  her  blue 
eyes  on  such  an  occasion  had  been  sufficient  to  pre- 
vent a  repetition  of  the  offence.  In  short,  unspoiled 
by  their  coarse  flattery,  and,  to  all  appearances,  happy 
and  care-free,  she  attended  to  the  running  of  The 
Polka  wholly  unsmirched  by  her  environment. 

But  a  keen  observer  would  not  have  failed  to  de- 
tect that  the  Girl  took  a  little  less  pleasure  in  her 
surroundings  than  she  had  taken  in  them  before  she 
had  made  the  trip  to  Monterey.  Downright  glad, 
to  use  her  own  expression,  as  she  had  been  on  her 
return  to  see  the  boys  of  the  camp  and  hear  their 
boisterous  shouts  of  welcome  when  the  stage  drew 
up  in  front  of  The  Polka,  she  had  to  acknowledge 
that  her  home-coming  was  not  quite  what  she  ex- 
pected. It  was  as  if  she  had  suddenly  been  startled 
out  of  a  beautiful  dream  wherein  she  had  been  listen- 
ing to  the  soft  music  of  her  lover's  voice  and  brought 
face  to  face  with  the  actualities  of  life,  which,  in  her 
case,  to  say  the  least,  were  very  real. 

For  hours  after  leaving  her  admirer  sitting  mo- 
tionless on  his  horse  on  the  great  highway  between 
Monterey  and  Sacramento,  the  Girl  had  indulged  in 
some  pertinent  thoughts  which,  if  the  truth  were 
known,  were  anything  but  complimentary  to  her  be- 
haviour. And,  however  successful  she  was  later  on 
in  persuading  herself  that  he  would  eventually  seek 


92        GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

her  out,  there  was  no  question  that  at  first  she  felt 
that  the  chances  of  her  ever  setting  eyes  on  him 
again  were  almost  negligible.  All  the  more  bitterly, 
therefore,  did  she  regret  her  folly  in  not  having  told 
him  where  she  lived;  particularly  so  since  she  as- 
sured herself  that  not  only  was  he  the  handsomest 
man  that  she  had  ever  seen,  but  that  he  was  the  only 
one  who  had  ever  succeeded  in  chaining  her  atten- 
tion. That  he  had  been  making  love  to  her  with  his 
eyes,  if  not  with  words,  she  knew  only  too  well  — 
a  fact  that  had  been  anything  but  displeasing  to  her. 
Indeed,  far  from  having  felt  sorry  that  she  had  en- 
couraged him,  she,  unblushingly,  acknowledged  to 
herself  that,  if  she  had  the  thing  to  do  over  again, 
she  would  encourage  him  still  more. 

Was  she  then  a  flirt?  Not  at  all,  in  the  common 
acceptation  of  the  word.  All  her  knowledge  of  the 
ways  of  the  world  had  been  derived  from  Mother 
Nature,  who  had  supplied  her  with  a  quick  and  ready 
wit  to  turn  aside,  with  a  smile,  the  protestations  of 
the  boys;  had  taught  her  how  to  live  on  intimate 
terms  with  them  and  yet  not  be  intimate;  but  when  it 
came  to  playing  at  love,  which  every  city  maid  of 
the  same  age  is  an  adept  at,  she  was  strangely  igno- 
rant. Of  a  truth,  then,  it  was  something  far 
broader  and  deeper  that  had  entered  into  her  heart 
• — love.  Not  infrequently  love  comes  as  suddenly 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST        97 

as  this  to  young  women  who  live  in  small  mining 
camps  or  out-of-the-way  places  where  the  men  are 
practically  of  a  type;  it  is  their  unfamiliarity  with  the 
class  which  a  stranger  represents  when  he  makes  his 
appearance  in  their  midst  that  is  responsible,  fully 
as  much  as  his  own  personality,  for  their  being  at- 
tracted to  him.  It  is  not  impossible,  of  course, 
that  if  the  Girl  had  met  him  in  Cloudy, —  say  as  a 
miner  there, —  the  result  would  have  been  precisely 
the  same.  But  it  is  much  more  likely  that  the  at- 
tendant conditions  of  their  meeting  aided  him  in  ap- 
pealing to  her  imagination,  and  in  touching  a  chord 
in  her  nature  which,  under  other  circumstances, 
would  not  have  resp'onded  in  as  many  months  as  there 
were  minutes  on  that  eventful  day. 

Little  wonder  then,  that  as  each  succeeding  mile 
travelled  by  the  stage  took  her  further  and  further 
away  from  him,  something  which,  as  yet,  she  did  not 
dare  to  name,  kept  tugging  at  her  heartstrings  and 
which  she  endeavoured  to  overcome  by  listening  to 
the  stage  driver's  long-winded  reminiscences  and  an- 
ecdotes concerning  the  country  through  which  they 
were  passing.  But,  although  she  made  a  brave  effort 
to  appear  interested,  it  did  not  take  him  long  to 
realise  that  something  was  on  his  passenger's  mind 
and,  being  a  wise  man,  he  gradually  relapsed  into 
silence,  with  the  result  that,  before  the  long  journey 


)4       GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

ended  at  Cloudy  Mountain,  she  had  deceived  herself 
into  believing  that  she  was  certain  to  see  her  admirer 
again. 

But  as  the  days  grew  into  weeks,  the  weeks  into 
months,  and  the  Girl  neither  saw  nor  heard  anything 
of  him,  it  was  inevitable  that  the  picture  that  he  had 
left  on  her  mind  should  begin  to  grow  dim.  Never- 
theless, it  was  surprising  what  a  knack  his  figure  had 
of  appearing  before  her  at  various  times  of  the  day 
and  night,  when  she  never  failed  to  compare  him 
with  the  miners  in  the  camp,  and,  needless  to  say,  un- 
flatteringly  to  them.  There  came  a  time,  it  is  true, 
when  she  was  sorely  tempted  to  tell  one  of  them 
something  of  this  new-found  friend  of  hers;  but 
rightly  surmising  the  effect  that  her  praising  of  her 
paragon  would  have  upon  the  recipient  of  her  confi- 
dences, she  wisely  resolved  to  lock  up  his  image  in 
her  heart. 

Of  course,  there  were  moments,  too,  when  the 
Girl  regretted  that  there  was  no  other  woman  — 
some  friend  of  her  own  sex  in  the  camp  —  to  whom 
she  could  confide  her  little  romance.  But  since  that 
boon  was  denied  her,  she  took  to  seeking  out  the 
most  solitary  places  to  dream  of  him.  In  such  moods 
she  would  climb  to  a  high  crag,  a  few  feet  from  her 
cabin,  and  with  a  reminiscent  and  far-away  look  in 
her  eyes  she  would  sit  for  hours  gazing  at  the  great 
canyons  and  gorges,  the  broad  forests  and  wooded 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WES1        95 

hillsides,  the  waterfalls  flashing  silver  in  the  distance, 
and,  above  all,  at  the  wonderously-grand  and  snow- 
capped peaks  of  the  main  range. 

At  other  times  she  would  take  the  trail  leading 
from  the  camp  to  the  country  below,  and  after 
wandering  about  aimlessly  in  the  beautiful  and  mys- 
terious forests,  she  would  select  some  little  glen 
through  which  a  brook  trickled  and  murmured  under- 
neath the  ferns  into  a  pool,  and  seating  herself  on  a 
clump  of  velvet  moss,  the  great  sugar  pines  and  firs 
forming  a  canopy  over  her  head,  she  would  whisper 
her  secret  thoughts  and  wild  hopes  to  the  gorgeously- 
plumed  birds  and  saucy  squirrels  scampering  all  about 
her.  The  hours  spent  thus  were  as  oases  in  her 
otherwise  practical  existence,  and  after  a  while  she 
would  return  laden  down  with  great  bunches  of  ferns 
and  wild  flowers  which,  eventually,  found  a  place  on 
the  walls  of  The  Polka. 

Glancing  at  the  bar  to  see  that  everything  was  to 
her  satisfaction,  the  Girl  greeted  the  boys  warmly, 
almost  rapturously  with : 

"  Hello,  boys !  How's  everythin'  ?  Gettin'  taken 
care  of?" 

"  Hello,  Girl !  "  sang  out  Sonora  in  what  he  con- 
sidered was  his  most  fetching  manner.  He  had  been 
the  first  to  reach  the  coveted  position  opposite  the 
Girl,  although  Handsome,  who  had  followed  her  in, 


96        GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

was  leaning  at  the  end  of  the  bar  nearest  to  the 
dance-hall. 

"  Hello,  Sonora !  "  returned  the  Girl  with  an 
amused  smile,  for  it  was  impossible  with  her  keen 
sense  of  humour  not  to  see  Sonora's  attempts  to  make 
himself  irresistible  to  her.  Nor  did  she  fail  to  ob- 
serve that  Trinidad,  likewise,  had  spruced  himself  up 
a  little  more  than  usual,  with  the  same  purpose  in 
mind. 

"  Hello,  Girl !  "  he  said,  strolling  up  to  her  with  a 
ludicrous  swagger. 

"  Hello,  Trin !  "  came  from  the  Girl,  smilingly. 

There  was  an  awkward  pause  in  which  both 
Sonora  and  Trinidad  floundered  about  in  their  minds 
for  something  to  say ;  at  length,  a  brilliant  inspiration 
came  to  the  former,  and  he  asked : 

"  Say,  Girl,  make  me  a  prairie  oyster,  will  you  ?  " 

"  All,  right,  Sonora,  I'll  fix  you  right  up,"  returned 
the  Girl,  smiling  to  herself  at  his  effort.  But  at  the 
moment  that  she  was  reaching  for  a  bottle  back  of 
the  bar,  a  terrific  whoop  came  from  the  dance-hall, 
and  ever-watchful  lest  the  boys'  fun  should  get  beyond 
her  control,  she  called  to  her  factotum  to  quiet  things 
down  in  the  next  room,  concluding  warningly: 
"  They've  had  about  enough." 

When  the  barkeeper  had  gone  to  do  her  bidding, 
the  Girl  picked  up  an  egg,  and,  poising  it  over  a  glass, 
she  went  on : 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST        97 

"  Say,  look  'ere,  Sonora,  before  I  crack  this  'ere 
egg,  I'd  like  to  state  that  eggs  is  four  bits  apiece. 
Only  two  hens  left — "  She  broke  off  short,  and 
turning  upon  Handsome,  who  had  been  gradually 
sidling  up  until  his  elbows  almost  touched  hers,  she 
repulsed  him  a  trifle  impatiently: 

"  Oh,  run  away,  Handsome !  " 

A  flush  of  pleasure  at  Handsome's  evident  dis- 
comfiture spread  over  Sonora's  countenance,  and 
comical,  indeed,  to  the  Girl,  was  the  majestic  air 
he  took  on  when  he  ordered  recklessly : 

"  Oh,  crack  the  egg  —  I'll  stand  for  it." 

But  Sonora's  fancied  advantage  over  the  others 
was  of  short  duration,  for  the  next  instant  Nick, 
stepping  quickly  forward  with  a  drink,  handed  it  to 
the  Girl  with  the  words : 

"  Regards  of  Blonde  Harry." 

Again  Sonora  experienced  a  feeling  akin  to  jeal- 
ousy at  what  he  termed  Blonde  Harry's  impudence. 
It  almost  immediately  gave  way  to  a  paroxysm  of 
chuckling;  for,  the  Girl,  quickly  taking  the  glass 
from  Nick's  hand,  flung  its  contents  into  a  nearby 
receptacle. 

"  There  —  tell  'im  that  it  hit  the  spot !  "  She 
laughed. 

Nick  roared  with  the  others,  but  on  the  threshold 
of  the  dance-hall  he  paused,  hesitated,  and  finally 
came  back,  and  advised  in  a  low  tone: 


98        GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

"  Throw  around  a  few  kind  words,  Girl  —  good 
for  the  bar." 

The  Girl  surveyed  the  barkeeper  with  playful 
disapproval  in  her  eye.  However  advantageous 
might  be  his  method  of  working  up  trade,  she  dis- 
dained to  follow  his  advice,  and  her  laughing  answer 
was: 

"Oh,  you  Nick!" 

The  peal  of  laughter  that  rung  in  Nick's  ears  as  he 
disappeared  through  the  door,  awakened  Ashby  and 
brought  him  instantly  to  his  feet.  Despite  his  size, 
he  was  remarkably  quick  in  his  movements,  and  in  no 
time  at  all  he  was  standing  before  the  bar  with  a 
glass,  which  he  had  filled  from  the  bottle  that  had 
stood  in  front  of  him  on  the  table,  and  was  saying: 

"  Compliments  of  Wells  Fargo." 

"Thank  you,"  returned  the  Girl;  and  then  while 
she  shook  the  prairie  oyster:  "You  see  we  live 
high-shouldered  here." 

"  That's  what !  "  put  in  Sonora  with  a  broad  grin. 

"What  cigars  have  you?"  asked  Ashby,  at  the 
conclusion  of  his  round  of  drinks. 

"  Regalias,  Auroas  and  Eurekas,"  reeled  off  the 
Girl  with  her  eye  upon  Billy  Jackrabbit,  who  had 
quietly  come  in  and  was  sneaking  about  in  an  en- 
deavour to  find  something  worth  pilfering. 

"  Oh,  any  will  do,"  Ashby  told  her,  with  a  smile; 
and  while  he  was  helping  himself  from  a  box  of 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST        99 

Regalias,   Nick  suddenly  appeared,  calling  out  ex 
citedly : 

"  Man  jest  come  in  threatenin'  to  shoot  up  th- 
furniture !  " 

"Who  is  it?"  calmly  inquired  the  Girl,  return- 
ing the  cigar-box  to  its  place  on  the  shelf. 

"  Old  man  Watson !" 

"Leave  'im  shoot, —  he's  good  for  it!  " 

"  Nick !  Nick !  "  yelled  several  voices  in  the 
dance-hall  where  old  man  Watson  was  surely  having 
the  time  of  his  life. 

And  still  the  Girl  paid  not  the  slightest  attention 
to  the  shooting  or  the  cries  of  the  men;  what  did 
concern  her,  however,  was  the  fact  that  the  Indian 
was  drinking  up  the  dregs  in  the  whisky  glasses  on 
the  faro  table. 

"  Here,  you,  Billy  Jackrabbit !  What  are  you 
doin'  here?"  she  exclaimed  sharply,  causing  that 
generally  imperturbable  redskin  to  start  perceptibly. 
"  Did  you  marry  my  squaw  yet?  " 

Billy  Jackrabbit's  face  wore  as  stolid  an  expres- 
sion as  ever,  when  he  answered: 

"  Not  so  much  married  squaw  —  yet." 

"  Not  so  much  married  .  .  ."  repeated  the 
Girl  when  the  merriment,  which  his  words  provoked, 
had  subsided.  "  Come  'ere,  you  thievin'  redskin!  " 
And  when  he  had  slid  up  to  the  bar,  and  she  had  ex- 
tracted from  his  pockets  a  number  of  cigars  which 


ioo      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

she  knew  had  been  pilfered,  she  added:  "You  git 
up  to  my  cabin  an'  marry  my  squaw  before  I  git 
there."  And  at  another  emphatic  "  Git  1 "  the 
Indian,  much  to  the  amusement  of  all,  started  for  the 
Girl's  cabin. 

"  Here  —  here's  your  prairie  oyster,  Sonora,"  at 
last  said  the  Girl;  and  then  turning  to  the  Sheriff  and 
speaking  to  him  for  the  first  time,  she  called  out 
gaily:  "Hello,  Ranee!" 

"  Hello,  Girl !  "  replied  the  Gambler  without  even 
a  glance  at  her  or  ceasing  to  shuffle  the  cards. 

Presently,  Sonora  pulled  out  a  bag  of  gold-dust 
and  told  the  Girl  to  clear  the  slate  out  of  it.  She  was 
in  the  act  of  taking  the  sack  when  Nick,  rushing  into 
the  room  and  jerking  his  thumb  over  his  shoulder, 
said: 

"  Say,  Girl,  there's  a  fellow  in  there  wants  to 
know  if  we  can  help  out  on  provisions." 

"Sure;  what  does  he  want?"  returned  the  Girl 
with  a  show  of  willingness  to  accommodate  him. 

"  Bread." 

"Bread?  Does  he  think  we're  runnin'  a 
bakery?" 

"  Then  he  asked  for  sardines." 

"Sardines?  Great  Gilead!  You  tell  'im  we 
have  nothin'  but  straight  provisions  here.  We  got 
pickled  oysters,  smokin'  tobacco  an'  the  best  whisky 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      101 

he  ever  saw,"  rapped  out  the  Girl,  proudly,  and 
turned  her  attention  to  the  slate. 

"  You  bet !  "  vouched  Trinidad  with  a  nod,  as 
Nick  departed  on  his  errand. 

Finally,  the  Girl,  having  made  her  calculations, 
opened  the  counter  drawer  and  brought  forth  some 
silver  Mexican  dollars,  saying: 

"  Sonora,  an'  Mr.  Ashby,  your  change !  " 

Ashby  picked  up  his  money,  only  to  throw  it  in- 
stantly back  on  the  bar,  and  say  gallantly : 

"  Keep  the  change  —  buy  a  ribbon  at  The  Ridge 
—  compliments  of  Wells  Fargo." 

"  Thank  you,"  smiled  the  Girl,  sweeping  the 
money  into  the  drawer,  but  her  manner  showed 
plainly  that  it  was  not  an  unusual  thing  for  the  pa- 
trons of  The  Polka  to  refuse  to  accept  the  change. 

Not  to  be  outdone,  Sonora  quickly  arose  and  went 
over  to  the  counter  where,  pointing  to  his  stack  of 
silver  dollars,  he  said : 

"  Girl,  buy  two  ribbons  at  The  Ridge;  "  and  then 
with  a  significant  glance  towards  Ashby,  he  added: 
"  Fawn's  my  colour." 

And  again,  as  before,  the  voice  that  said,  "  Thank 
you,"  was  colourless,  while  her  eyes  rested  upon  the 
ubiquitous  Nick,  who  had  entered  with  an  armful 
of  wood  and  was  intent  upon  making  the  room 
warmer. 


102      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

Ranee  snorted  disapprovingly  at  Sonora's  prod- 
igality. That  he  considered  that  both  his  and 
Ashby's  attentions  to  the  Girl  had  gone  far  enough 
was  made  apparent  by  the  severe  manner  in  which 
he  envisaged  them  and  drawled  out: 

"Play  cyards?" 

But  to  that  gentleman's  surprise  the  men  did  not 
move.  Instead,  Ashby  raising  a  warning  finger  to 
the  Girl,  went  on  to  advise  that  she  should  bank  with 
them  oftener,  concluding  with : 

"  And  then  if  this  road  agent  Ramerrez  should 
drop  in,  you  won't  lose  so  much  — " 

"  The  devil  you  say  1  "  cut  in  Sonora ;  while  Trini- 
dad broke  out  into  a  scornful  laugh. 

"  Oh,  go  on,  Mr.  Ashby  1  "  smilingly  scoffed  the 
Girl.  "  I  keep  the  specie  in  an  empty  keg  now. 
But  I've  took  to  bankin'  personally  in  my  stockin'," 
she  confided  without  the  slightest  trace  of  em- 
barrassment. 

"  But  say,  we've  got  an  awful  pile  this  month," 
observed  Nick,  anxiously,  leaving  the  fireplace  and 
joining  the  little  ring  of  men  about  her.  "  It  makes 
me  sort  o'  nervous  —  why,  Sonora's  got  ten  thou- 
sand alone  fer  safe  keepin'  in  that  keg  an' — " 

" —  Ramerrez'  band's  everywhere,"  completed 
Ashby  with  a  start,  his  quick  and  trained  ear  having 
caught  the  sound  of  horses'  hoofs. 

"  But  if  a  road  agent  did  come  here,  I  could  offer 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      103 

'im  a  drink  an'  he'd  treat  me  like  a  perfect  lady," 
contended  the  Girl,  confidently. 

"  You  bet  he  would,  the  durned  old  halibut !  " 
was  Sonera's  comment,  while  Nick  took  occasion  to 
ask  the  Girl  for  some  tobacco. 

"Solace  or  Honeydew?"  she  inquired,  her  hands 
already  on  the  assortment  of  tobacco  underneath  the 
bar. 

"  Dew,"  was  Nick's  laconic  answer. 

And  then  it  was  that  the  Girl  heard  for  the  first 
time  the  sound  of  the  galloping  hoofs;  startled  for 
the  moment,  she  inquired  somewhat  uneasily: 

"Who's  this,  I  wonder?" 

But  no  sooner  were  the  words  spoken  than  a  voice 
outside  in  the  darkness  sung  out  sharply : 

"  Hello !  " 

"  Hello  !  "  instantly  returned  another  voice,  which 
the  Girl  recognised  at  once  as  being  that  of  the 
Deputy. 

"  Big  holdup  last  night  at  The  Forks !  "  the  first 
voice  was  now  saying. 

"Holdup!"  repeated  several  voices  outside  in 
tones  of  excitement. 

"  Ramerrez  — "  went  on  the  first  voice,  at  which 
ominous  word  all,  including  Ashby,  began  to  ex- 
change significant  glances  as  they  echoed : 

"  Ramerrez  1  " 

The  name  had  barely  died  on  their  lips,  however, 


io4     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

than  Nick  precipitated  himself  into  their  midst  and 
announced  that  The  Pony  Express  had  arrived,  hand- 
ing up  to  the  Girl,  at  the  same  time,  a  bundle  of  let- 
ters and  one  paper. 

"  You  see !  "  maintained  Ashby,  stoutly,  as  he 
watched  her  sort  the  letters ;  "  I  was  right  when  I 
told  you  .  .  ." 

"  Look  sharp  !  There's  a  greaser  on  the  trail !  " 
rang  out  warningly  the  voice  of  The  Pony  Express. 

"  A  greaser !  "  exclaimed  Ranee,  for  the  first  time 
showing  any  interest  in  the  proceedings;  and  then 
without  looking  up  and  after  the  manner  of  a  man 
speaking  to  a  good  dog,  he  told  the  Deputy,  who 
had  followed  Nick  into  the  room : 

"  Find  him,  Dep." 

For  some  time  the  Girl  occupied  herself  with  cash- 
ing in  the  chips  which  Nick  brought  to  her  —  a  task 
which  she  performed  with  amazing  correctness  and 
speed  considering  that  her  knowledge  of  the  science 
of  mathematics  had  been  derived  solely  from  the 
handling  of  money  at  The  Polka.  Now  she  went 
over  to  Sonora,  who  sat  at  a  table  reading. 

"  You  got  the  newspaper,  I  see,"  she  observed. 
"  But  you,  Trin,  I'm  sorry  you  ain't  got  nothin',"  she 
added,  with  a  sad,  little  smile. 

"  So  long!  "  hollered  The  Pony  Express  at  that 
moment;  whereupon,  Ashby  rushed  over  to  the  door 
and  called  after  him : 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      105 

"  Pony  Express,  I  want  you !  "  Satisfied  that  his 
command  had  been  heard  he  retraced  his  footsteps 
and  found  Handsome  peering  eagerly  over  Sonora's 
shoulder. 

"  So,  Sonora,  you've  got  a  newspaper,"  Handsome 
vvas  saying. 

"  Yes,  but  the  infernal  thing's  two  months  old," 
returned  the  other  disgustedly. 

Handsome  laughed,  and  wheeling  round  was  just 
in  time  to  see  the  door  flung  open  and  a  young  fellow 
advance  towards  Ashby. 

The  Pony  Express  was  a  young  man  of  not  more 
than  twenty  years  of  age.  He  was  smooth-faced 
and  unshaven  and,  needless  to  say,  was  light  of  build, 
for  these  riders  were  selected  for  their  weight  as  well 
as  for  their  nerve.  He  wore  a  sombrero,  a  buck- 
skin hunting-shirt,  tight  trousers  tucked  into  high 
boots  with  spurs,  all  of  which  were  weather-beaten 
and  faded  by  wind,  rain,  dust  and  alkali.  A  pair 
of  Colt  revolvers  could  be  seen  in  his  holsters,  and 
he  carried  in  his  hands,  which  were  covered  with 
heavy  gloves,  a  mail  pouch  —  it  being  the  company's 
orders  not  to  let  his  muchilo  of  heavy  leather  out  of 
his  hands  for  a  second. 

"You  drop  mail  at  the  greaser  settlement?"  in- 
quired Ashby  in  his  peremptory  and  incisive  manner. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  quickly  responded  the  young  man;  and 
then  volunteered:  "  It's  a  tough  place." 


io6      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

Ashby  scrutinised  the  newcomer  closely  before  go- 
ing on  with : 

"  Know  a  girl  there  named  Nina  Micheltorena  ?  " 

But  before  The  Pony  Express  had  time  to  reply 
the  Girl  interposed  scornfully: 

"Nina  Micheltorefia?  Why,  they  all  know  'er! 
She's  one  o'  them  Cachuca  girls  with  droopy,  Span- 
ish eyes!  Oh,  ask  the  boys  about  'erl  "  And  with 
that  she  started  to  leave  the  room,  stopping  on  her 
way  to  clap  both  Trinidad  and  Sonora  playfully  on 
the  back.  "  Yes,  ask  the  boys  about  'er,  they'll  tell 
you !  "  And  so  saying  she  fled  from  the  room,  fol- 
lowed by  the  men  she  was  poking  fun  at. 

"Hold  her  letters,  you  understand?"  instructed 
Ashby  who,  with  the  Sheriff,  was  alone  now  with 
The  Pony  Express. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  he  replied  earnestly.  A  moment  later 
there  being  no  further  orders  forthcoming  he  hastily 
took  his  leave. 

Ashby  now  turned  his  attention  to  Ranee. 

"  Sheriff,"  said  he,  "  to-night  I  expect  to  see  this 
Nina  Micheltorefia  either  here  or  at  The  Palmetto." 

Ranee  never  raised  an  eyebrow. 

"You  do?"  he  remarked  a  moment  later  with 
studied  carelessness.  "Well,  the  boys  had  better 
look  to  their  watches.  I  met  that  lady  once." 

Ashby  shot  him  a  look  of  inquiry. 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      107 

"  She's  looking  to  that  five  thousand  reward  for 
Ramerrez,"  he  told  him. 

Ranee's  interest  was  growing  by  leaps  and  bounds 
though  he  continued  to  riffle  the  cards. 

"What?     She's  after  that?" 

"  Sure  thing.  She  knows  something  .  .  ." 
And  having  delivered  himself  of  this  Ashby  strode 
over  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  room  where  his  coat 
and  hat  were  hanging  upon  an  elk  horn.  While  put- 
ting them  on  he  came  face  to  face  with  the  Girl  who, 
having  merely  glanced  in  at  the  dance-hall,  was  re- 
turning to  take  up  her  duties  behind  the  bar.  "  Well, 
I'll  have  a  look  at  that  greaser  up  the  road,"  he  said, 
addressing  her,  and  then  went  on  half-jocularly,  half- 
seriously :  "  He  may  have  his  eye  on  the  find  in  that 
stocking." 

"  You  be  darned!  "  was  the  Girl's  parting  shot  at 
him  ao  he  went  out  into  the  night. 

There  was  a  long  and  impressive  pause  in  which, 
apparently,  the  Sheriff  was  making  up  his  mind  to 
speak  of  matters  scarcely  incident  to  the  situation 
that  had  gone  before;  while  fully  conscious  that  she 
was  to  be  asked  to  give  him  an  answer  —  she  whose 
answer  had  been  given  many  times  —  the  Girl  stood 
at  the  bar  in  an  attitude  of  amused  expectancy,  and 
fussing  with  things  there.  At  length,  Ranee,  glanc- 
ing shyly  over  his  shoulder  to  make  sure  that  they 


108      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

were  alone,  became  all  at  once  grave  and  his  voice 
fell  soft  and  almost  caressingly. 

"Say,  Girl!" 

The  young  woman  addressed  stole  a  look  at  him 
from  under  her  lashes,  all  the  while  smiling  a  wise, 
little  smile  to  herself,  but  not  a  word  did  she  vouch- 
safe in  reply. 

Again  Ranee  called  to  her  over  his  shoulder: 

"I  say,  Girl!" 

The  Girl  took  up  a  glass  and  began  to  polish  it. 
At  last  she  deigned  to  favour  him  with  "Hm?" 
which,  apparently,  he  did  not  hear,  for  again  a  si- 
lence fell  upon  them.  Finally,  unable  to  bear  the 
suspense  any  longer,  the  Sheriff  threw  down  his  cards 
on  the  table,  and  facing  her  he  said: 

"  Say,  Girl,  will  you  marry  me?  " 

"  Nope,"  returned  the  Girl  with  a  saucy  toss  of 
the  head. 

Ranee  rose  and  strode  over  to  the  bar.  Looking 
fixedly  at  her  with  his  steely  grey  eyes  he  demanded 
the  reason. 

"  'Cause  you  got  a  wife  in  Noo  Orleans — or  so 
the  mountain  breezes  say,"  was  her  ready  answer. 

Ranee  gave  no  sign  of  having  heard  her.  Throw- 
ing away  the  cigar  he  was  smoking  he  asked  in  the 
most  nonchalant  manner : 

"  Give  me  some  of  them  cigars  —  my  kind." 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      109 

Reaching  for  a  box  behind  her  the  Girl  placed  it 
before  him. 

"  Them's  your  kind,  Jack."  . 

From  an  inside  pocket  of  his  broadcloth  coat 
Ranee  took  out  an  elaborate  cigar-case,  filled  it 
slowly,  leaving  out  one  cigar  which  he  placed  be- 
tween his  lips.  When  he  had  this  one  going  satis- 
factorily he  rested  both  elbows  on  the  edge  of  the 
bar,  and  said  bluntly : 

"  I'm  stuck  on  you." 

The  Girl's  lips  parted  a  little  mockingly. 

"  Thank  you." 

Ranee  puffed  away  for  a  moment  or  two  in  silence, 
and  then  with  sudden  determination  he  went  on : 

"  I'm  going  to  marry  you." 

"  Think  so  ?  "  questioned  the  Girl,  drawing  her- 
self up  proudly.  And  while  Ranee  proceeded  to  re- 
light his  cigar,  it  having  gone  out,  she  plumped  both 
elbows  on  the  bar  and  looked  him  straight  in  the 
eye,  and  announced:  "They  ain't  a  man  here 
goin'  to  marry  me." 

The  scene  had  precisely  the  appearance  of  a  strug- 
gle between  two  powerful  wills.  How  long  they 
would  have  remained  with  elbows  almost  touching 
and  looking  into  each  other's  eyes  it  is  difficult  to  de- 
termine; but  an  interruption  came  in  the  person  of  the 
barkeeper,  who  darted  in,  calling :  "  One  good  cigar !  " 


no      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

Instantly  the  Girl  reached  behind  her  for  the  box 
containing  the  choicest  cigars,  and  handing  one  to 
Nick,  she  said: 

"  Here's  your  poison  —  three  bits.  Why  look  at 
'em,"  she  went  on  in  the  next  breath  to  Ranee; 
"  there's  Handsome  with  two  wives  I  know  of  some- 
where East.  And — "  She  broke  off  short  and 
ended  with :  "  Nick,  who's  that  cigar  for?  " 

"  Tommy,"  he  told  her. 

"  Here,  give  that  back !  "  she  cried  quickly  put* 
ting  out  her  hand  for  it.  "  Tommy  don't  know  a 
good  cigar  when  he's  smokin'  it."  And  so  saying 
she  put  the  choice  cigar  back  in  its  place  among  its 
fellows  and  handed  him  one  from  another  box  with 
the  remark :  "  Same  price,  Nick." 

Nick  chuckled  and  went  out. 

"  An'  look  at  Trin  with  a  widow  in  Sacramento. 
An'  you  — "  The  Girl  broke  off  short  and  laughed 
in  his  face.  "  Oh,  not  one  o'  you  travellin'  undei 
your  own  name  !  " 

"  One  whisky !  "  ordered  Nick,  coming  into  the 
room  with  a  rush.  Without  a  word  the  Girl  took 
down  a  bottle  and  poured  it  out  for  him  while  hft 
stood  quietly  looking  on,  grinning  from  ear  to  ear 
For  Ranee's  weakness  was  known  to  him  as  it  was 
to  every  other  man  in  Manzaneta  County,  and  he  be. 
lieved  that  the  Sheriff  had  taken  advantage  of  hw 
absence  to  press  his  hopeless  suit. 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      in 

"  Here  you  be !  "  sang  out  the  Girl,  -and  passed 
the  glass  over  to  him. 

"  He  wants  it  with  water,"  returned  Nick,  with  a 
snicker. 

With  a  contemptuous  gesture  the  Girl  put  the  bot- 
tle back  on  the  shelf. 

"  No  —  no  you  don't;  no  fancy  drinks  here !  "  she 
objected. 

"  But  he  says  he  won't  take  it  without  water,"  pro- 
tested Nick,  though  there  was  a  twinkle  in  his  eye. 
"  He's  a  fellow  that's  jest  rode  in  from  The  Crossin', 
so  he  says." 

The  Girl  folded  her  arms  and  declared  in  a  tone 
of  finality: 

"  He'll  take  it  straight  or  git." 

"  But  he  won't  git,"  contended  Nick  chuckling. 

There  was  an  ominous  silence.  Such  behaviour 
was  without  a  parallel  in  the  annals  of  Cloudy. 
For  much  less  than  this,  as  the  little  barkeeper  very 
well  knew,  many  a  man  had  been  disciplined  by  the 
Girl.  So,  with  his  eyes  fixed  upon  her  face,  he  was 
already  revelling  in  the  situation  by  way  of  anticipa- 
tion, and  rejoicing  in  the  coming  requital  for  his 
own  rebuff  when  the  stranger  had  declined  to  leave 
as  ordered.  It  was  merely  a  question  of  his  wait- 
ing for  the  words  which  would,  as  he  put  it,  "  take 
the  fellow  down  a  peg."  They  were  soon  forth- 
coming. 


ii2      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

"  You  jest  send  'im  to  me,"  commanded  the  Girl. 
"  I'll  curl  his  hair  for  him !  " 

Nick's  face  showed  that  the  message  was  to  his 
liking.  It  was  evident,  also,  that  he  meant  to  lose 
no  time  in  delivering  it.  A  moment  after  he  disap- 
peared, Ranee,  who  had  been  toying  with  a  twenty 
dollar  gold  piece  which  he  took  from  his  pocket, 
turned  to  the  Girl  and  said  with  great  earnestness : 

"  Girl,  I'll  give  you  a  thousand  dollars  on  the  spot 
for  a  kiss,"  which  offer  met  with  no  response  other 
than  a  nervous  little  laugh  and  the  words: 

"  Some  men  invite  bein'  played." 

The  gambler  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  Well,  what  are  men  made  for?  "  said  he,  fling- 
ing the  gold  piece  down  on  the  bar  in  payment  for 
the  cigar. 

"  That's  true,"  placidly  commented  the  Girl,  mak- 
ing the  change. 

Ranee  tried  another  tack. 

"  You  can't  keep  on  running  this  place  alone;  it's 
getting  too  big  for  you ;  too  much  money  circulating 
through  The  Polka.  You  need  a  man  behind  you." 
All  this  was  said  in  short,  jerky  sentences;  moreover, 
when  she  placed  his  change  in  front  of  him  he  pushed 
it  back  almost  angrily. 

"  Come  now,  marry  me,"  again  he  pleaded. 

"  Nope." 

"  My  wife  won't  know  it." 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      113 

"  Nope." 

"  Now,  see  here,  there's  just  one  — " 

"  Nope  —  take  it  straight,  Jack,  nope  .  .  ." 
interrupted  the  Girl.  She  had  made  up  her  mind 
that  he  had  gone  far  enough;  and  firmly  grabbing 
his  hand  she  slipped  his  change  into  it. 

Without  a  word  the  Sheriff  dropped  the  coins  into 
the  cuspidor.  The  Girl  saw  the  action  and  her  eyes 
flashed  with  anger.  The  next  moment,  however, 
she  looked  up  at  him  and  said  more  gently  than  any 
time  yet: 

"  No,  Jack,  I  can't  marry  you.  Ah,  come  along 
—  start  your  game  again  —  go  on,  Jack."  And 
so  saying  she  came  out  from  behind  the  bar  and 
went  over  to  the  faro  table  with :  "  Whoop  la ! 
Mula !  Go !  Good  Lord,  look  at  that  faro  table !  " 

But  Ranee  was  on  the  verge  of  losing  control  of 
himself.  There  was  passion  in  his  steely  grey  eyes 
when  he  advanced  towards  her,  but  although  the 
Girl  saw  the  look  she  did  not  flinch,  and  met  it  in  a 
clear,  straight  glance. 

"  Look  here,  Jack  Ranee,"  she  said,  "  let's  have 
it  out  right  now.  I  run  The  Polka  'cause  I  like  it. 
My  father  taught  me  the  business  an',  well,  don't 
you  worry  'bout  me  —  I  can  look  after  m'self.  I 
carry  my  little  wepping " —  and  with  that  she 
touched  significantly  the  little  pocket  of  her  dress. 
"  I'm  independent,  I'm  happy,  The  Polka's  payin', 


ii4     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

an'  it's  bully!"  she  wound  up,  laughing.  Then, 
with  one  of  her  quick  changes  of  mood,  she  turned 
upon  him  angrily  and  demanded :  "  Say,  what  the 
devil  do  you  mean  by  proposin'  to  me  with  a  wife  in 
Noo  Orleans?  Now,  this  is  a  respectable  saloon, 
an'  I  don't  want  no  more  of  it." 

A  look  of  gloom  came  into  Ranee's  eyes. 

"  I  didn't  say  anything — "  he  began. 

"  Push  me  that  Queen,"  interrupted  the  Girl, 
sharply,  gathering  up  the  cards  at  the  faro  table,  and 
pointing  to  one  that  was  just  beyond  her  reach.  But 
when  Ranee  handed  it  to  her  and  was  moving  silently 
away,  she  added:  "  Ah,  no  offence,  Jack,  but  I  got 
other  idees  o'  married  life  from  what  you  have." 

"  Aw,  nonsense !  "  came  from  the  Sheriff  in  a  voice 
that  was  not  free  from  irritation. 

The  Girl  glanced  up  at  him  quickly.  Her  mind 
was  not  the  abode  of  hardened  convictions,  but  was 
tender  to  sentiment,  and  something  in  his  manner  at 
once  softening  her,  she  said: 

"  Nonsense  ?  I  dunno  'bout  that.  You  see  — " 
and  her  eyes  took  on  a  far  away  look — "  I  had  a 
home  once  an'  I  ain't  forgot  it  —  a  home  up  over 
our  little  saloon  down  in  Soledad.  I  ain't  forgot  my 
father  an'  my  mother  an'  what  a  happy  kepple  they 
were.  Lord,  how  they  loved  each  other  —  it  was 
beautiful  1" 

Despite  his  seemingly  callous  exterior,  there  was 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      115 

a  soft  spot  in  the  gambler's  heart.  Every  word  that 
the  Girl  uttered  had  its  effect  on  him.  Now  his 
hands,  which  had  been  clenched,  opened  out  and  a 
new  light  came  into  his  eyes.  Suddenly,  however,  it 
was  replaced  by  one  of  anger,  for  the  door,  at  that 
moment,  was  hesitatingly  pushed  open,  and  The  Sid- 
ney Duck  stood  with  his  hand  on  the  knob,  sniv- 
elling : 

"  Oh,  Miss,  I  — " 

The  Girl  fairly  flew  over  to  him. 

"Say,  I've  heard  about  you!  You  git!"  she 
cried;  and  when  she  was  certain  that  he  was  gone 
she  came  back  and  took  a  seat  at  the  table  where  she 
continued,  in  the  same  reminiscent  vein  as  before: 
"  I  can  see  mother  now  fussin'  over  father  an'  pettin' 
'im,  an'  father  dealin'  faro  —  Ah,  he  was  square! 
An'  me  a  kid,  as  little  as  a  kitten,  under  the  table 
sneakin'  chips  for  candy.  Talk  'bout  married  life 
• —  that  was  a  little  heaven !  Why,  mother  tho't  so 
much  o'  that  man,  she  was  so  much  heart  an'  soul 
with  'im  that  she  learned  to  be  the  best  case-keeper 
you  ever  saw.  Many  a  sleeper  she  caught!  You 
see,  when  she  played,  she  was  playin'  for  the  oF 
man."  She  stopped  as  if  overcome  with  emotion, 
and  then  added  with  great  feeling:  "  I  guess  every- 
body's got  some  remembrance  o'  their  mother  tucked 
away.  I  always  see  mine  at  the  faro  table  with  her 
foot  snuggJted  up  to  Dad's,  an'  the  light  o'  lovin'  in 


n6      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

her  eyes.  Ah,  she  was  a  lady  .  .  . !  "  Im- 
pulsively she  rose  and  walked  over  to  the  bar. 
"  No,"  she  went  on,  when  behind  it  once  more,  "  I 
couldn't  share  that  table  an'  The  Polka  with  any  man 
—  unless  there  was  a  heap  o'  carin'  back  of  it.  No, 
I  couldn't,  Jack,  I  couldn't  .  .  ." 

By  this  time  the  Sheriff's  anger  had  completely 
vanished;  dejection  was  plainly  written  on  every  line 
of  his  face. 

"  Well,  I  guess  the  boys  were  right;  I  am  a  China- 
man," he  drawled  out. 

At  once  the  Girl  was  all  sympathy. 

"  Oh,  no  you're  not,  Jack!  "  she  protested,  speak- 
ing as  tenderly  as  she  dared  without  encouraging 
him. 

Ranee  was  quick  to  detect  the  change  in  her  voice. 
Now  he  leaned  over  the  end  of  the  bar  and  said  in 
tones  that  still  held  hope : 

"  Once  when  I  rode  in  here  it  was  nothing  but 
Jack,  Jack,  Jack  Ranee.  By  the  Eternal,  I  nearly 
got  you  then !  " 

"  Did  you?  "     The  Girl  was  her  saucy  self  again. 

Ranee  ignored  her  manner,  and  went  on: 

"  Then  you  went  on  that  trip  to  Sacramento  and 
Monterey  and  you  were  different." 

In  spite  of  herself  the  Girl  started,  which  Ranee's 
quick  eye  did  not  fail  to  note. 

"Who's  the  man?"  he  blazed. 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      117 

For  answer  the  Girl  burst  out  into  a  peal  of  laugh- 
ter. It  was  forced,  and  the  man  knew  it. 

"  I  suppose  he's  one  o'  them  high-toned,  Sacra- 
mento shrimps!  "  he  burst  out  gruffly;  then  he  added 
meaningly :  "  Do  you  think  he'd  have  you  ?  " 

At  those  words  a  wondering  look  shone  in  the 
Girl's  eyes,  and  she  asked  in  all  seriousness: 

"  What's  the  matter  with  me  ?  Is  there  anythin' 
'bout  me  a  high-toned  gent  would  object  to?  "  And 
then  as  the  full  force  of  the  insult  was  borne  in  upon 
her  she  stepped  out  from  behind  the  bar,  and  de- 
manded :  "  Look  here,  Jack  Ranee,  ain't  I  always 
been  a  perfect  lady?  " 

Ranee  laughed  discordantly. 

"  Oh,  heaven  knows  your  character's  all  right!  " 
And  so  saying  he  seated  himself  again  at  the  table. 

The  girl  flared  up  still  more  at  this;  she  retorted: 

"  Well,  that  ain't  your  fault,  Jack  Ranee !  "  But 
the  words  were  hardly  out  of  her  mouth  than  she 
regretted  having  spoken  them.  She  waited  a  mo- 
ment, and  then  as  he  did  not  speak  she  murmured  an 
"  Adios,  Jack,"  and  took  up  her  position  behind  the 
bar  where,  if  Ranee  had  been  looking,  he  would 
have  seen  her  start  on  hearing  a  voice  in  the  next 
room  and  fix  her  eyes  in  a  sort  of  fascinated  wonder, 
on  a  man  who,  after  parting  the  pelt  curtain,  came 
into  the  saloon  with  just  a  suggestion  of  swagger  in 
his  bearing. 


VII 

"  WHERE'S  the  man  who  wanted  to  curl  my  hair?  " 

Incisive  and  harsh,  with  scarcely  a  trace  of  the 
musical  tones  she  recollected  so  well,  as  was  John- 
son's voice,  it  deceived  the  Girl  not  an  instant.  Even 
before  she  was  able  to  get  a  glimpse  of  his  face  it 
did  not  fail  to  tell  her  that  the  handsome  caballero, 
with  whom  she  had  ridden  on  that  never-to-be-for- 
gotten day  on  the  Monterey  road,  was  standing  be- 
fore her.  That  his  attire  now,  as  might  be  expected, 
was  wholly  different  from  what  it  had  been  then,  it 
never  occurred  to  her  to  note;  for,  to  tell  the  truth, 
she  was  vainly  struggling  to  suppress  the  joy  that 
she  felt  at  seeing  him  again,  and  before  she  was 
aware  of  it  there  slipped  through  her  lips: 

"Why,  howdy  do,  stranger!" 

At  the  sound  of  her  voice  Johnson  wheeled  round 
in  glad  surprise  and  amazement;  but  the  quick  look 
of  recognition  that  he  flashed  upon  her  wholly  es- 
caped the  Sheriff  whose  attitude  was  indicative  of 
keen  resentment  at  this  intrusion,  and  whose  eyes 
were  taking  in  the  newcomer  from  head  to  foot. 

"  We're  not  much  on  strangers  here,"  he  blurted 
out  at  last. 

Johnson  turned  on  his  heel  and  faced  the  speaker. 
An  angry  retort  rose  to  his  lips,  but  he  checked  it. 
118 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      119 

Although,  perhaps,  not  fully  appreciating  his  action, 
he  was,  nevertheless,  not  unaware  that,  from  the 
point  of  view  of  the  Polka,  his  refusal  to  take  his 
whisky  straight  might  be  regarded  as  nothing  less 
than  an  insult.  And  now  that  it  was  too  late  he 
was  inclined,  however  much  he  resented  an  at- 
tempt to  interfere  in  a  matter  which  he  believed  con- 
cerned himself  solely,  to  regret  the  provocation  and 
challenging  words  of  his  entrance  if  only  because  of 
a  realisation  that  a  quarrel  would  be  likely  to  upset 
his  plans.  On  the  other  hand,  with  every  fraction  of 
a  second  that  passed  he  was  conscious  of  becoming 
more  and  more  desirous  of  humbling  the  man  stand- 
ing before  him  and  scrutinising  him  so  insolently; 
moreover,  he  felt  intuitively  that  the  eyes  of  the  Girl 
were  on  him  as  well  as  on  the  other  principal  to  this 
silent  but  no  less  ominous  conflict  going  on,  and  such 
being  the  case  it  was  obviously  impossible  for  him  to 
withdraw  from  the  position  he  had  taken.  As  a  sort 
of  compromise,  therefore,  he  said,  tentatively : 
"  I'm  the  man  who  wanted  water  in  his  whisky." 
"You!  "  exclaimed  the  Girl;  and  then  added  re- 
provingly :  "  Oh,  Nick,  this  gentleman  takes  his 
whisky  as  he  likes  it !  " 

And  this  from  the  Girl  I  The  little  barkeeper  had 
all  the  appearance  of  a  man  who  thought  the  world 
was  coming  to  an  end.  He  did  not  accept  the  Girl's 
ultimatum  until  he  had  drawn  down  his  face  into  an 


120     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

expression  of  mock  solemnity  and  ejaculated  half- 
aloud  : 

"  Moses,  what's  come  over  'er  I  " 

Johnson  took  a  few  steps  nearer  the  Girl  and 
bowed  low. 

"  In  the  presence  of  a  lady  I  will  take  nothing," 
he  said  impressively.  "  But  pardon  me,  you  seem 
to  be  almost  at  home  here." 

The  girl  leaned  her  elbows  on  the  bar  and  her 
chin  in  her  hands,  and  answered  with  a  tantalising 
little  laugh: 

"Who  — me?" 

After  a  loud  guffaw  Nick  took  it  upon  himself  to 
explain  matters;  turning  to  Johnson  he  said: 

"  Why,  she's  the  Girl  who  runs  The  Polka !  " 

Johnson's  face  wore  a  look  of  puzzled  consterna- 
tion; he  saw  no  reason  for  levity. 

"You     .     .     .?" 

"  Yep,"  nodded  the  Girl  with  a  merry  twinkle  in 
her  eyes. 

Johnson's  face  fell. 

"  She  runs  The  Polka,"  he  murmured  to  himself. 
Of  all  places  to  have  chosen  —  this!  So  the  thing 
he  had  dreaded  had  happened! 

For  odd  as  it  unquestionably  seemed  to  him  that 
she  should  turn  up  as  the  proprietress  of  a  saloon 
after  months  of  searching  high  and  low  for  her,  it 
was  not  this  reflection  that  was  uppermost  in  his 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      121 

mind;  on  the  contrary,  it  was  the  deeply  humiliating 
thought  that  he  had  come  upon  her  when  about  to 
ply  his  vocation.  Regret  came  swiftly  that  he  had 
not  thought  to  inquire  who  was  the  owner  of  The 
Polka  Saloon.  Bitterly  he  cursed  himself  for  his 
dense  stupidity.  And  yet,  it  was  doubtful  whether 
any  of  his  band  could  have  informed  him.  All  that 
they  knew  of  the  place  was  that  the  miners  of 
Cloudy  Mountain  Camp  were  said  to  keep  a  large 
amount  of  placer  gold  there;  all  that  he  had  done 
was  to  acquaint  himself  with  the  best  means  of  get- 
ting it.  But  his  ruminations  were  soon  dissipated  by 
Ranee,  who  had  come  so  close  that  their  feet  almost 
touched,  and  was  speaking  in  a  voice  that  showed 
the  quarrelsome  frame  of  mind  that  he  was  in. 

"  You're  from  The  Crossing,  the  barkeeper 
said — "  he  began,  and  then  added  pointedly:  "  I 
don't  remember  you." 

Johnson  slowly  turned  from  the  Girl  to  the 
speaker  and  calmly  corrected: 

"  You're  mistaken ;  I  said  I  rode  over  from  The 
Crossing."  And  turning  his  back  on  the  man  he 
faced  the  Girl  with:  "  So,  you  run  The  Polka?" 

"I'm  the  Girl  — the  girl  that  runs  The  Polka," 
she  said,  and  to  his  astonishment  seemed  to  glory  in 
her  occupation. 

Presently,  much  to  their  delight,  an  opportunity 
came  to  them  to  exchange  a  word  or  two  with  each 


122     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

other  without  interruption.  For,  Ranee,  as  if  re- 
volving some  plan  of  action  in  his  mind,  had  turned 
on  his  heel  and  walked  off  a  little  way.  A  moment 
more,  however,  and  he  was  back  again  and  more 
malevolently  aggressive  than  ever. 

"  No  strangers  are  allowed  in  this  camp,"  he  said, 
glowering  at  Johnson;  and  then,  his  remark  having 
passed  unheeded  by  the  other,  he  sneered:  "  Per- 
haps you're  off  the  road;  men  often  get  mixed  up 
when  they're  visiting  Nina  Micheltorefia  on  the  back 
trail." 

"  Oh,  Ranee!  "  protested  the  Girl. 

But  Johnson,  though  angered,  let  the  insinuation 
pass  unnoticed,  and  went  on  to  say  that  he  had 
stopped  in  to  rest  his  horse  and,  perhaps,  if  invited, 
try  his  luck  at  a  game  of  cards.  And  with  this  inti- 
mation he  crossed  over  to  the  poker  table  where  he 
picked  up  the  deck  that  Ranee  had  been  using. 

Ranee  hesitated,  and  finally  followed  up  the 
stranger  until  he  brought  up  face  to  face  with 
him. 

"  You  want  a  game,  eh?"  he  drawled,  coolly  im- 
pudent. "  I  haven't  heard  your  name,  young  man." 

"  Name,"  echoed  the  Girl  with  a  cynical  laugh. 
"  Oh,  names  out  here  — " 

"  My  name's  Johnson  — "  spoke  up  the  man, 
throwing  down  the  cards  on  the  table. 

"Is  what?"  laughed  the  Girl,  saucily,  and,  ap- 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      123 

parently,  trying  to  relieve  the  strained  situation  by 
her  bantering  tone. 

" —  Of  Sacramento,"  he  finished  easily. 

"  Of  Sacramento,"  repeated  the  Girl  in  the  same 
jesting  manner  as  before;  then,  quickly  coming  out 
from  behind  the  bar,  she  went  over  to  him  and  put 
out  her  hand,  saying: 

"  I  admire  to  know  you,  Mr.  Johnson  o'  Sacra- 
mento." 

Johnson  bowed  low  over  her  hand. 

"  Thank  you,"  he  said  simply. 

"  Say,  Girl,  I  — "  began  Ranee,  fuming  at  her  be- 
haviour. 

"  Oh,  sit  down,  Ranee !  "  The  interruption  came 
from  the  Girl  as  she  pushed  him  lightly  out  of  her 
way;  then,  perching  herself  up  on  one  end  of  the 
faro  table,  at  which  Johnson  had  taken  a  seat,  she 
ventured : 

"  Say,  Mr.  Johnson,  do  you  know  what  I  think  o' 
you?" 

Johnson  eyed  her  uncertainly,  while  Ranee's  eyes 
blazed  as  she  blurted  out: 

"  Well,  I  think  you  staked  out  a  claim  in  a  eti- 
quette book."  And  then  before  Johnson  could  an- 
swer her,  she  went  on  to  say :  "  So  you  think  you 
can  play  poker?  " 

"  That's  my  conviction,"  Johnson  told  her,  smil- 
ingly. 


124     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

"  Out  o'  every  fifty  men  who  think  they  can  pi.  y 
poker  one  ain't  mistaken,"  was  the  Girl's  caustic  ob- 
servation. The  next  instant,  however,  she  jumped 
down  from  the  table  and  was  back  at  her  post,  where, 
fearful  lest  he  should  think  her  wanting  in  hospi- 
tality, she  proposed :  "  Try  a  cigar,  Mr.  John- 
son?" 

"  Thank  you,"  he  said,  rising,  and  following  her 
to  the  bar. 

"  Best  in  the  house  —  my  compliments." 

"  You're  very  kind,"  said  Johnson,  taking  the 
candle  that  she  had  lighted  for  him;  then,  when  his 
cigar  was  going,  and  in  a  voice  that  was  intended  for 
her  alone,  he  went  on :  "  So  you  remember  me  ?  " 

"  If  you  remember  me,"  returned  the  Girl,  like- 
wise in  a  low  tone. 

.  "  What  the  devil  are  they  talking  about  any- 
way?" muttered  Ranee  to  himself  as  he  stole  a 
glance  at  them  over  his  shoulder,  though  he  kept  on 
shuffling  the  cards. 

"  I  met  you  on  the  road  to  Monterey,"  said  John- 
son with  a  smile. 

"  Yes,  comin'  an'  goin',"  smiled  back  the  Girl. 
"  You  passed  me  a  bunch  o'  wild  syringa  over  the 
wheel;  you  also  asked  me  to  go  a-berryin' — "  and 
here  she  paused  long  enough  to  glance  up  at  him 
coquettishly  before  adding:  "But  I  didn't  see  it 
Mr.  Johnson." 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      125 

"  I  noticed  that,"  observed  Johnson,  laughing. 

"  An'  when  you  went  away  you  said  — "  The 
Girl  !>roke  off  abruptly  and  replaced  the  candle  on 
the  bar;  then  with  a  shy,  embarrassed  look  on  her 
face  she  ended  with :  "  Oh,  I  dunno." 

"  Yes,  you  do,  yes,  you  do,"  maintained  Johnson. 
"  I  said  I'll  think  of  you  all  the  time  —  well,  I've 
thought  of  you  ever  since." 

There  was  a  moment  of  embarrassment.     Then : 

"  Somehow  I  kind  o'  tho't  you  might  drop  in," 
she  said  with  averted  eyes.  "  But  as  you  didn't — " 
She  paused  and  summoned  to  her  face  a  look  which 
she  believed  would  adequately  reflect  a  knowledge 
of  the  proprieties.  "  O'  course,"  she  tittered  out, 
"  it  wa'n't  my  place  to  remember  you  —  first." 

"  But  I  didn't  know  where  you  lived  —  you  never 
told  me,  you  know,"  contended  the  road  agent, 
which  contention  so  satisfied  the  Girl  —  for  she  re- 
membered only  too  well  that  she  had  not  told  him  — 
that  she  determined  to  show  him  further  evidences  of 
her  regard. 

44  Say,  I  got  a  special  bottle  here  —  best  in  the 
house.  Will  you  .  .  .?" 

"  Why  — " 

The  girl  did  not  wait  for  him  to  finish  his  sen- 
tence, but  quickly  placed  a  bottle  and  glass  before 
him. 

"My  compliments,"  she  whispered,  smiling. 


126     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

"  You're  very  kind  —  thanks,"  returned  the  road 
agent,  and  proceeded  to  pour  out  a  drink. 

Meanwhile,  little  of  what  was  taking  place  had 
been  lost  on  Jack  Ranee.  As  the  whispered  conver- 
sation continued,  he  grew  more  and  more  jealous, 
and  at  the  moment  that  Johnson  was  on  the  point  of 
putting  the  glass  to  his  lips,  Ranee,  rising  quickly, 
went  over  to  him  and  deliberately  knocked  the  glass 
out  of  his  hand. 

With  a  crash  it  fell  to  the  floor. 

"  Look  here,  Mr.  Johnson,  your  ways  are  offen- 
sive to  me!"  he  cried;  "damned  offensive!  My 
name  is  Ranee  —  Jack  Ranee.  Your  business  here 
—  your  business?"  And  without  waiting  for  the 
other's  reply  he  called  out  huskily:  "  Boys !  Boys! 
Come  in  here !  " 

At  this  sudden  and  unexpected  summons  in  the 
Sheriff's  well-known  voice  there  was  a  rush  from  the 
dance-hall ;  in  an  instant  the  good-natured,  roistering 
crowd,  nosing  a  fight,  crowded  to  the  bar,  where  the 
two  men  stood  glaring  at  each  other  in  suppressed 
excitement. 

"  Boys,"  declared  the  Sheriff,  his  eye  never  leav- 
ing Johnson's  face,  "  there's  a  man  here  who  won't 
explain  his  business.  He  won't  tell  — " 

"Won't  he?"  cut  in  Sonora,  blusteringly, 
"Well,  we'll  see  —  we'll  make  'im!  " 

There  was  a  howl  of  execration  from  the  bar 


"Boys,  I  vouch  to  Cloudy  for  Mr.  Johnson" 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      127 

It  moved  the  Girl  to  instant  action.  Quick  as 
thought  she  turned  and  strode  to  where  the  cries 
were  the  most  menacing  —  towards  the  boys  whe 
knew  her  best  and  ever  obeyed  her  unquestioningly. 

"  Wait  a  minute  1  "  she  cried,  holding  up  her  hand 
authoritatively.  "  I  know  the  gent  I  " 

The  men  exchanged  incredulous  glances;  from  all- 
sides  came  the  explosive  cries : 

"  What's  that  ?     You  know  him  ?  " 

"Yes,"  she  affirmed  dramatically;  and  turning 
now  to  Ranee  with  a  swift  change  of  manner,  she 
confessed :  "  I  didn't  tell  you  —  but  I  know  Mm." 

The  Sheriff  started  as  if  struck. 

"  The  Sacramento  shrimp  by  all  that  is  holy !  "  he 
muttered  between  his  teeth  as  the  truth  slowly 
dawned  upon  him. 

"  Yes,  boys,  this  is  Mr.  Johnson  o'  Sacramento," 
announced  the  Girl  with  a  simple  and  unconscious 
dignity  that  did  not  fail  to  impress  all  present.  "  I 
vouch  to  Cloudy  for  Mr.  Johnson  1  " 

Consternation ! 

And  then  the  situation  vaguely  dawning  upon 
them  there  ensued  an  outburst  of  cheering  compared 
to  which  the  previous  howl  of  execration  was  silence. 

Johnson  smiled  pleasantly  at  the  Girl  in  acknowl- 
edgment of  her  confirmation  of  him,  then  shot  a 
half-curious,  half-amused  look  at  the  crowd  sur- 
rounding him  and  regarding  him  with  a  new  interest. 


128      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

Apparently  what  he  saw  was  to  his  liking,  for  his 
manner  was  most  friendly  when  bowing  politely,  he 
said: 

"  How  are  you,  boys?  " 

At  once  the  miners  returned  his  salutation  in  true 
western  fashion :  every  man  in  the  place,  save  Ranee, 
taking  off  his  hat  and  sweeping  it  before  him  in  an 
arc  as  they  cried  out  in  chorus : 

"  Hello,  Johnson !  " 

"Boys,  Ranee  ain't  a-runnin'  The  Polka  yet!" 
observed  Sonora  with  a  mocking  smile  on  his  lips, 
and  gloating  over  the  opportunity  to  give  the  Sheriff 
a  dig. 

The  men  shouted  their  approval  of  this  jibe.  In- 
deed, they  might  have  gone  just  a  little  too  far  with 
their  badgering  of  the  Sheriff,  considering  the  mood 
that  he  was  in;  so,  perhaps,  it  was  fortunate  that 
Nick  should  break  in  upon  them  at  this  time  with : 

"  Gents,  the  boys  from  The  Ridge  invites  you  to 
dance  with  them." 

No  great  amount  of  enthusiasm  was  evinced  at 
this.  Nevertheless,  it  was  a  distinct  declaration  of 
peace;  and,  taking  advantage  of  it,  Johnson  ad- 
vanced toward  the  Girl,  bowed  low,  and  asked  with 
elaborate  formality: 

"  May  I  have  the  honour  of  a  waltz?  " 

Flabbergasted  and  awed  to  silence  by  what  they 
termed  Johnson's  "  style,"  Happy  and  Handsome 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      129 

stood  staring  helplessly  at  one  another;  at  length 
Happy  broke  out  with : 

"Say,  Handsome,   ain't  he  got  a  purty  action? 
An'  ornamental  sort  o'  cuss,  ain't  he  ?     But  say,  kind 
o'  presumin'  like,  ain't  it,  for  a  fellow  breathin'  the 
obscurity  o'  The  Crossin'  to  learn  gents  like  us  how  ' 
to  ketch  the  ladies  pronto?  " 

"  Which  same,"  allowed  Handsome,  "  shorely's  a 
most  painful,  not  to  say  humiliatin'  state  o'  things." 
And  then  to  the  Girl  he  whispered:  "  It's  up  to  you 
—  make  a  holy  show  of  Mm." 

The  Girl  laughed. 

"  Me  waltz?  Me?"  she  cried,  answering  John- 
son at  last.  "  Oh,  I  can't  waltz  but  I  can  poiky." 

Once  more  Johnson  bent  his  tall  figure  to  the 
ground,  and  said: 

"  Then  may  I  have  the  pleasure  of  the  next 
polka?" 

By  this  time  Sonora  had  recovered  from  his  as- 
tonishment. After  giving  vent  to  a  grunt  expres- 
sive of  his  contempt,  he  blurted  out : 

"  That  fellow's  too  flip  !  " 

But  the  idea  had  taken  hold  of  the  Girl,  though 
she  temporised  shyly: 

"  Oh,  I  dunno !  Makes  me  feel  kind  o'  foolish, 
you  know,  kind  o'  retirin'  like  a  elk  in  summer." 

Johnson  smiled  in  spite  of  himself. 

"  Elks  are  retiring,"  was  his  comment  as  he  again 


130     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

advanced  and  offered  his  arm  in  an  impressive  and 
ceremonious  manner. 

"  Well,  I  don't  like  everybody's  hand  on  the  back 
o'  my  waist,"  said  the  Girl,  running  her  hands  up 
and  down  her  dress  skirt.  "  But,  somehow  — " 
She  stopped,  and  fixing  her  eyes  recklessly  on  Ranee, 
made  a  movement  as  if  about  to  accept;  but  another 
look  at  Johnson's  preferred  arm  so  embarrassed  her 
that  she  sent  a  look  of  appeal  to  the  rough  fellows, 
who  stood  watching  her  with  grinning  faces. 

"Oh,  Lord,  must  I?"  she  asked;  then,  hanging 
back  no  longer,  she  suddenly  flung  herself  into  his 
arms  with  the  cry:  "  Oh,  come  along!  " 

Promptly  Johnson  put  his  arm  around  the  Girl's 
waist,  and  breaking  into  a  polka  he  swung  her  off 
to  the  dance-hall  where  their  appearance  was  greeted 
with  a  succession  of  wild  whoops  from  the  men  there, 
as  well  as  from  the  hilarious  boys,  who  had  rushed 
pell-mell  after  them. 

Left  to  himself  and  in  a  rage  Ranee  began  to  pace 
the  floor. 

"  Cleaned  out  —  cleaned  out  for  fair  by  a  high- 
toned,  fine-haired  dog  named  Johnson!  Well,  I'll 
be  — "  The  sentence  was  never  finished,  his  atten- 
tion being  caught  and  held  by  something  which  Nick 
was  carrying  in  from  the  dance-hall. 

"  What's  that?  "  he  demanded  brusquely. 

Nick's  eyes  were  twinkling  when  he  answered : 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      131 

"  Johnson's  saddle." 

Ranee  could  control  himself  no  longer;  with  a 
sweep  of  his  long  arm  he  knocked  the  saddle  out  of 
the  other's  hand,  saying: 

"  Nick,  I've  a  great  notion  to  walk  out  of  this 
door  and  never  step  my  foot  in  here  again." 

Nick  did  not  answer  at  once.  While  he  did  not 
especially  care  for  Ranee  he  did  not  propose  to  let 
his  patronage,  which  was  not  inconsiderable,  go 
elsewhere  without  making  an  effort  to  hold  it. 
Therefore,  he  thought  a  moment  before  picking  up 
the  saddle  and  placing  it  in  the  corner  of  the  room. 

"  Aw,  what  you  givin'  us,  Ranee !  She's  only 
a-kiddin'  'im,"  at  last  he  said  consolingly. 

The  Sheriff  was  about  to  question  this  when  a  loud 
cry  from  outside  arrested  him. 

"  What's  that?  "  he  asked  with  his  eyes  upon  the 
door. 

"  Why  that's  —  that's  Ashby's  voice,"  the  bar- 
keeper informed  him;  and  going  to  the  door,  fol- 
lowed by  Ranee,  as  well  as  the  men  who,  on  hear- 
ing the  cry,  had  rushed  in  from  the  dance-hall,  he 
opened  it,  and  they  heard  again  the  voice  that  they 
all  recognised  now  as  that  of  the  Wells  Fargo  Agent. 

"  Come  on !  "  he  was  saying  gruffly. 

"What  the  deuce  is  up?"  inquired  Trinidad  si- 
multaneously with  the  Deputy's  cry  of  "  Bring  him 
in !  "  And  almost  instantly  the  Deputy,  followed 


I32      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

by  Ashby  and  others,  entered,  dragging  along  witk 
him  the  unfortunate  Jose  Castro.  The  rough  han- 
dling that  he  had  received  had  not  improved  his  ap- 
pearance. His  clothing,  half  Mexican,  the  rest  of 
odds  and  ends,  had  been  torn  in  several  places.  He 
looked  oily,  greasy  and  unwashed,  while  the  eyes 
that  looked  around  in  affright  had  lost  none  of  their 
habitual  trickiness  and  sullenness. 

And  precisely  as  Castro  appeared  wholly  different 
than  when  last  seen  in  the  company  of  his  master,  so, 
too,  was  Ashby  metarmorphosed.  His  hat  was  on 
the  back  of  his  head;  his  coat  looked  as  if  he  had 
been  engaged  in  some  kind  of  a  struggle;  his  hair 
was  ruffled  and  long  locks  straggled  down  over  his 
forehead;  while  his  face  wore  a  brutal,  savage,  piti- 
less, nasty  look. 

By  this  time  all  the  regular  habitues  of  the  saloon 
had  come  in  and  were  crowding  around  the  greaser 
with  scowling,  angry  faces. 

"  The  greaser  on  the  trail !  "  gurgled  Ashby  in  his 
glass,  having  left  his  prisoner  for  a  moment  to  fortify 
himself  with  a  drink  of  whisky. 

Whereupon,  the  Sheriff  advanced  and,  with  rough 
hands,  jerked  the  prisoner's  head  brutally. 

"  Here  you,"  he  said,  "  give  us  a  look  at  your 
face." 

But  the  Sheriff  had  never  seen  him  before.  And 
in  obedience  to  his  commands  to  "  Tie  him  up !  " 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      133 

the  Deputy  and  Billy  Jackrabbit  took  a  lariat  from 
the  wall  and  proceeded  to  bind  their  prisoner  fast. 
When  this  was  done  Ashby  called  to  Nick  to  serve 
him  another  drink,  adding : 

"  Come  on,  boys !  " 

Instantly  there  was  an  exclamatory  lining  up  at 
the  bar,  only  Sonora,  apparently,  seeming  disinclined 
to  accept,  which  Ashby  was  quick  to  note.  Turning 
to  him  quickly,  he  inquired: 

"  Say,  my  friend,  don't  you  drink?  " 

But  no  insult  had  been  intended  by  Sonora's  omis- 
sion; it  was  merely  most  inconsiderate  on  his  part  of 
the  feelings  of  others;  and,  therefore,  there  was  a 
note  of  apology  in  the  voice  that  presently  said: 

"  Oh,  yes,  Mr.  Ashby,  I'm  with  you  all  rightx" 

During  this  conversation  the  eyes  of  the  greaser 
had  been  wandering  all  over  the  room.  But  as  the 
men  moved  away  from  him  to  take  their  drinks  he 
started  violently  and  an  expression  of  dismay  crossed 
his  features.  "  Ramerrez'  saddle !  "  he  muttered  to 
himself.  "  The  Maestro  —  he  is  taken  I  " 

Just  then  there  came  a  particularly  loud  burst  of 
approval  from  the  spectators  of  the  dancing  going 
on  in  the  adjoining  room,  and  instinctively  the  men 
at  the  bar  half-turned  towards  the  noise.  The  pris- 
oner's eyes  followed  their  gaze  and  a  fiendish  grin 
replaced  the  look  of  dismay  on  his  face.  "  No,  he 
is  there  dancing  with  a  girl,"  he  said  under  his 


i34     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

breath.  A  moment  later  Nick  let  down  the  bear- 
skin curtain,  shutting  off  completely  the  Mexican's 
view  of  the  dance-hall. 

"  Come,  now,  tell  us  what  your  name  is?  "  The 
voice  was  Ashby's  who,  together  with  the  others, 
now  surrounded  the  prisoner.  "  Speak  up  —  who 
are  you  ?  " 

"  My  name  ees  Jose  Castro;  "  and  then  he  added 
with  a  show  of  pride:  "  Ex-pa drona  of  the  bull- 
fights." 

"  But  the  bull-fights  are  at  Monterey!  Why  do 
you  come  to  this  place?  " 

All  eyes  instantly  turned  from  the  prisoner  to 
Ranee,  who  had  asked  the  question  while  seated  at 
the  table,  and  from  him  they  returned  to  the  pris- 
oner, most  of  the  men  giving  vent  to  exclamations 
of  anger  in  tones  that  made  the  greaser  squirm, 
while  Trinidad  expressed  the  prevailing  admiration 
of  the  Sheriff's  poser  by  crying  out: 

"  That's  the  talk  —  you  bet !  WThy  do  you  come 
here?" 

Castro's  face  wore  an  air  of  candour  as  he  replied: 

"  To  tell  the  Senor  Sheriff  I  know  where  ees 
Ramerrez." 

Ranee  turned  on  the  prisoner  a  grim  look. 

"  You  lie!  "  he  vociferated,  at  the  same  time  rais- 
ing his  hand  to  check  the  angry  mutterings  of  the 
men  that  boded  ill  for  the  greaser. 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      135 

"  Nay,"  denied  Castro,  strenuously,  "  pleanty 
Mexican  vaquero  —  my  friend  Peralta,  Weelejos  all 
weeth  Ramerrez  —  so  I  know  where  ees." 

Ranee  advanced  and  shot  a  finger  in  his  face. 

"  You're  one  of  his  men  yourself!  "  he  cried  hotly. 
But  if  he  had  hoped  by  his  accusation  to  take  the 
man  off  his  guard,  it  was  eminently  unsuccessful,  for 
the  look  on  the  greaser's  face  was  innocence  itself 
when  he  declared : 

"  No,  no,  Senor  Sheriff." 

Ranee  reflected  a  moment;  suddenly,  then,  he  took 
another  tack. 

"You  see  that  man  there?"  he  queried,  pointing 
to  the  Wells  Fargo  Agent.  "  That  is  Ashby.  He 
is  the  man  that  pays  out  that  reward  you've  heard 
of."  Then  after  a  pause  to  let  his  words  sink  in,  he 
demanded  gruffly:  "Where  is  Ramerrez'  camp?" 

At  once  the  prisoner  became  voluble. 

"  Come  with  me  one  mile,  Senor,"  he  said,  "  and 
by  the  soul  of  my  mother,  the  blessed  Maria  Sal- 
taja,  we  weel  put  a  knife  into  hees  back." 

"  One  mile,  eh  ?  "  repeated  Ranee,  coolly. 

The  miners  looked  incredulous. 

"If  I  tho't — "  began  Sonora,  but  Ranee  rudely 
cut  in  with : 

"Where  is  this  trail?" 

"  Up  the  Madrona  Canyada,"  was  the  greaser'f 
instant  reply. 


136     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

At  this  juncture  a  Ridge  boy,  who  had  pushed 
aside  the  bear-skin  curtain  and  was  gazing  with 
mouth  wide  open  at  the  proceedings,  suddenly  cried 
out: 

"Why,  hello,  boys!  What's  the—"  He  got 
no  further.  In  a  twinkling  and  with  cries  of  "  Shut 
up !  Git !  "  the  men  made  for  the  intruder  and 
bodily  threw  him  out  of  the  room.  When  quiet  was 
restored  Ranee  motioned  to  the  prisoner  to  proceed. 

"  Ramerrez  can  be  taken  —  too  well  taken,"  de- 
clared the  Mexican,  gaining  confidence  as  he  went 
on,  "  if  many  men  come  with  me  —  in  forty  minutes 
there  —  back." 

Ranee  turned  to  Ashby  and  asked  him  what  he 
thought  about  it. 

"  I  don't  know  what  to  think,"  was  the  Wells 
Fargo  Agent's  reply.  "  But  it  certainly  is  curious. 
This  is  the  second  warning  —  intimation  that  we 
have  had  that  he  is  somewhere  in  this  vicinity." 

"  And  this  Nina  Micheltorena  —  you  say  she  is 
coming  here  to-night?  " 

Ashby  nodded  assent. 

"  All  the  same,  Ranee,"  he  maintained,  "  I 
wouldn't  go.  Better  drop  in  to  The  Palmetto 
later." 

"What?  Risk  losin'  *im?"  exclaimed  Sonora, 
who  had  been  listening  intently  to  their  conversation. 

"  We'll  take  the  chance,  boys,  in  spite  of  Ashby's 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      137 

advice,"  Ranee  said  decisively.  It  was  with  not  a 
little  surprise  that  he  heard  the  shouts  with  which 
his  words  were  approved  by  all  save  the  Wells 
Fargo  Agent. 

Now  the  miners  made  a  rush  for  their  coats,  hats 
and  saddles,  while  from  all  sides  came  the  cries  of, 
"  Come  on,  boysl  Careful  —  there!  Ready  — 
Sheriff!" 

Gladly,  cheerfully,  Nick,  too,  did  what  he  could 
to  get  the  men  started  by  setting  up  the  drinks  for  all 
hands,  though  he  remarked  as  he  did  so: 

"  It's  goin'  to  snow,  boys;  I  don't  like  the  sniff  in 
the  air." 

But  even  the  probability  of  encountering  a  storm 
• —  which  in  that  altitude  was  something  decidedly  to 
be  reckoned  with  —  did  not  deter  the  men  from 
proceeding  to  make  ready  for  the  road  agent's  cap- 
ture. In  an  incredibly  short  space  of  time  they  had 
loaded  up  and  got  their  horses  together,  and  from  the 
harmony  in  their  ranks  while  carrying  out  orders,  it 
was  evident  that  not  a  man  there  doubted  the  success 
of  their  undertaking. 

"  We'll  git  this  road  agent !  "  sung  out  Trinidad, 
going  out  through  the  door. 

"Right  you  are,  pard!"  agreed  Sonora;  but  at 
the  door  he  called  back  to  the  greaser:  "  Come  on, 
you  oily,  garlic-eatin',  red-peppery,  dog-trottin',  sun- 
baked son  of  a  skunk!  " 


138      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

"  Come  on,  you  .  .  . !  "  came  simultaneously 
from  the  Deputy,  now  untying  the  rope  which  bound 
the  prisoner. 

The  greaser's  teeth  were  chattering;  he  begged: 

"  One  dreenk  —  I  freeze     .     .     ." 

Turning  to  Nick  the  Deputy  told  him  to  give  the 
man  a  drink,  adding  as  he  left  the  room : 

"  Watch  him  —  keep  your  eye  on  him  a  moment, 
for  me,  will  you  ?  " 

Nick  nodded;  and  then  regarding  the  Mexican  with 
a  contemptuous  look,  he  asked: 

"What'll  you  have?" 

The  Mexican  rose  to  his  feet  and  began  hesita- 
tingly : 

"  Geeve  me — "  He  paused;  and  then,  starting 
with  the  thought  that  had  come  to  him,  he  shot  a 
glance  at  the  dance-hall  and  called  out  loudly,  roll- 
ing his  r's  even  more  pronouncedly  than  is  the  custom 
with  his  race :  "  Aguardiente !  Aguardiente  !  " 

"  Sit  down !  "  ordered  Nick,  vaguely  conscious 
that  there  was  something  in  the  greaser's  voice  that 
was  not  there  before. 

The  greaser  obeyed,  but  not  until  he  knew  for  a 
certainty  that  his  voice  had  been  heard  by  his  master. 

"  So  you  did  bring  in  my  saddle,  eh,  Nick?  "  asked 
the  road  agent,  coming  quickly,  but  unconcernedly 
into  the  room  and  standing  behind  his  man. 

Up  to  this  time,   Nick's   eyes  had  not  left  the 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      139 

prisoner,  but  with  the  appearance  on  the  scene  of 
Johnson,  he  felt  that  his  responsibility  ceased  in  a 
measure.  He  turned  and  gave  his  attention  to  mat- 
ters pertaining  to  the  bar.  As  a  consequence,  he  did 
not  see  the  look  of  recognition  that  passed  between 
the  two  men,  nor  did  he  hear  the  whispered  dialogue 
in  Spanish  that  followed. 

"Maestro!  Ramerrez! "  came  in  whispered 
tones  from  Castro. 

"  Speak  quickly  —  go  on,"  came  likewise  in 
whispered  tones  from  the  road  agent. 

"  I  let  them  take  me  according  to  your  bidding," 
went  on  Castro. 

"  Careful,  Jose,  careful,"  warned  his  master  while 
stooping  to  pick  up  his  saddle,  which  he  afterwards 
laid  on  the  faro  table.  It  was  while  he  was  thus  en- 
gaged that  Nick  came  over  to  the  prisoner  with  a 
glass  of  liquor,  which  he  handed  to  him  gruffly  with: 

"Here!" 

At  that  moment  several  voices  from  the  dance- 
hall  called  somewhat  impatiently :  "  Nick,  Nick !  " 

"  Oh,  The  Ridge  boys  are  goin'  1  "  he  said,  and 
seeming  intuitively  to  know  what  was  wanted  he 
made  for  the  bar.  But  before  acceding  to  their 
wishes,  he  turned  to  Johnson,  took  out  his  gun  and 
offered  it  to  him  with  the  words :  "  Say,  watch  this 
greaser  for  a  moment,  will  you?  " 

"  Certainly,"  responded  Johnson,  quickly,  declin- 


i4o     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

ing  the  other's  pistol  by  touching  his  own  holster 
significantly.  "  Tell  the  Girl  you  pressed  me  into 
service,"  he  concluded  with  a  smile. 

"  Sure."  But  on  the  point  of  going,  the  little 
barkeeper  turned  to  him  and  confided:  "Say,  the 
Girl's  taken  an  awful  fancy  to  you." 

"No?"  deprecated  the  road  agent. 

"  Yes,"  affirmed  Nick.  "  Drop  in  often  —  great 
bar!" 

Johnson  smiled  an  assent  as  the  other  went  out  of 
the  room  leaving  master  and  man  together. 

"  Now,  then,  Jose,  go  on,"  he  said,  when  they 
were  alone. 

"  Bueno!  Our  men  await  the  signal  in  the  bushes 
close  by.  I  will  lead  the  Sheriff  far  off  —  then  I  will 
slip  away.  You  quietly  rob  the  place  and  fly  —  it 
is  death  for  you  to  linger  —  Ashby  is  here." 

"  Ashby!  "     The  road  agent  started  in  alarm. 

"  Ashby  — "  reiterated  Castro  and  stopped  on 
seeing  that  Nick  had  returned  to  see  that  all  was 
well. 

"  All  right,  Nick,  everything's  all  right,"  Johnson 
reassured  him. 

The  outlaw's  position  remained  unchanged  until 
Nick  had  withdrawn.  From  where  he  stood  he  now 
saw  for  the  first  time  the  preparations  that  were  be- 
ing made  for  his  capture:  the  red  torchlights  and 
white  candle-lighted  lanterns  which  were  reflected 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      141 

through  the  windows;  and  a  moment  more  he  heard 
the  shouts  of  the  miners  calling  to  one  another.  Of 
a  sudden  he  was  aroused  to  a  consciousness,  at  least, 
of  their  danger  by  Castro's  warning: 

"  By  to-morrow's  twilight  you  must  be  safe  in  your 
rancho." 

The  road  agent  shook  his  head  determinedly. 

"  No,  we  raid  on." 

Castro  was  visibly  excited. 

"  There  are  a  hundred  men  on  your  track." 

Johnson  smiled. 

"  Oh,  one  minute's  start  of  the  devil  does  me, 
Jose." 

"Ah,  but  I  fear  the  woman  —  Nina  Michel- 
toreria  —  I  fear  her  terribly.  She  is  close  at  hand 
—  knowing  all,  angry  with  you,  and  jealous  —  and 
still  loving  you." 

"  Loving  me  ?  Oh,  no,  Jose !  Nina,  like  you, 
loves  the  spoils,  not  me.  No,  I  raid  on  .  .  ." 

A  silence  fell  upon  the  two  men,  which  was  broken 
by  Sonora  calling  out: 

"  Bring  along  the  greaser,  Dep !  " 

"All  right!"  answered  the  loud  voice  of  the 
Deputy. 

"  You  hear  —  we  start,"  whispered  Castro  to  his 
master.  "  Give  the  signal."  And  notwithstanding, 
the  miners  were  coming  through  the  door  for  him 
and  stood  waiting,  torches  in  hand,  he  contrived  to 


142      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

finish:  "Antonio  awaits  for  it.  Only  the  woman 
and  her  servant  will  stay  behind  here." 

"  Adios!  "  whispered  the  master. 

"  Adios !  "  returned  his  man  simultaneously  with 
the  approach  of  the  Deputy  towards  them. 

It  was  then  that  the  Girl's  gay,  happy  voice  floated 
in  on  them  from  the  dance-hall;  she  cried  out : 

"  Good-night,  boys,  good-night !  Remember  me 
to  The  Ridge !  " 

"  You  bet  we  will !  So  long !  Whoop ! 
Whooppee !  "  chorussed  the  men,  while  the  Deputy, 
grabbing  the  Mexican  by  the  collar,  ordered  him  to, 
"Come  on!" 

The  situation  wa's  not  without  its  humorous  side 
to  the  road  agent;  he  could  not  resist  following  the 
crowd  to  the  door  where  he  stood  and  watched  his 
would-be  captors  silently  mount;  listened  to  the 
Sheriff  give  the  word,  which  was  immediately  fol- 
lowed by  the  sound  of  horses  grunting  as  they  sprang 
forward  into  the  darkness  •  in  a  desperate  effort  to 
escape  the  maddening  pain  of  the  descending  quirts 
and  cruel  spurs.  It  was  a  scene  to  set  the  blood  rac- 
ing through  the  veins,  viewed  in  any  light;  and  not 
until  the  yells  of  the  men  had  grown  indistinct,  and 
all  that  could  be  heard  was  the  ever-decreasing  sound 
of  rushing  hoofs,  did  the  outlaw  turn  back  into  the 
saloon  over  which  there  hung  a  silence  which,  bv 
contrast,  he  found  strangely  depressing. 


VIII 

THERE  was  a  subtle  change,  an  obvious  lack  of 
warmth  in  Johnson's  manner,  which  the  Girl  was 
quick  to  feel  upon  returning  to  the  now  practically 
deserted  saloon. 

"Don't  it  feel  funny  here  —  kind  o'  creepy?." 
She  gave  the  words  a  peculiar  emphasis,  which  made 
Johnson  flash  a  quick,  inquisitorial  look  at  her;  and 
then,  no  comment  being  forthcoming,  she  went  on 
to  explain :  "  I  s'pose  though  that's  'cause  I  don't 
remember  seein'  the  bar  so  empty  before." 

A  somewhat  awkward  silence  followed,  which  at 
length  was  broken  by  the  Girl,  who  ordered: 

"  Lights  out  now !  Put  out  the  candle  here,  too, 
Nick!"  But  while  the  little  barkeeper  proceeded 
to  carry  out  her  instructions  she  turned  to  Johnson 
with  an  eager,  frank  expression  on  her  face,  and 
said:  "Oh,  you  ain't  goin',  are  you?" 

"No  —  not  yet  —  no — "  stammered  Johnson, 
half-surprisedly,  half-wonderingly. 

The  Girl's  face  wore  a  pleased  look  as  she  an- 
swered: 

"Oh,  I'm  so  glad  o'  that!" 

Another  embarrassing  silence  followed.  At  last 
Nick  made  a  movement  towards  the  window,  say- 
ing: 


i44      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

"  I'm  goin'  to  put  the  shutters  up." 

"  So  early?  What?  "  The  Girl  looked  her  sur- 
prise. 

"  Well,  you  see,  the  boys  are  out  huntin'  Ramer- 
rez,  and  there's  too  much  money  here  .  .  ."  said 
Nick  in  a  low  tone. 

The  Girl  laughed  lightly. 

"  Oh,  all  right  —  cash  in  —  but  don't  put  the 
head  on  the  keg  —  I  ain't  cashed  in  m'self  yet." 

Rolling  the  keg  to  one  side  of  the  room,  Nick 
beckoned  to  the  Girl  to  come  close  to  him,  which  she 
did;  and  pointing  to  Johnson,  who  was  strolling  about 
the  room,  humming  softly  to  himself,  he  whispered: 

"  Say,  Girl,  know  anythin'  about  —  about  him?" 

But  very  significant  as  was  Nick's  pantomime, 
which  included  the  keg  and  Johnson,  it  succeeded  only 
in  bringing  forth  a  laugh  from  the  Girl,  and  the 
words : 

"Oh,  sure!" 

Nevertheless,  the  faithful  guardian  of  the  Girl's 
interests  sent  a  startled  glance  of  inquiry  about  the 
room,  and  again  asked: 

"All  right,  eh?" 

The  Girl  ignored  the  implication  contained  in  the 
other's  glance,  and  answered  "  Yep,"  in  such  a  tone 
of  finality  that  Nick,  reassured  at  last,  began  to  put 
things  ship-shape  for  the  night.  This  took  but  » 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      145 

moment  or  two,  however,  and  then  he  quietly  disap- 
peared. 

"  Well,  Mr.  Johnson,  it  seems  to  be  us  a-keepin' 
house  here  to-night,  don't  it?"  said  the  Girl,  alone 
now  with  the  road  agent. 

Her  observation  might  easily  have  been  interpreted1 
as  purposely  introductory  to  an  intimate  scene,  not- 
withstanding that  it  was  made  in  a  thoroughly  mat- 
ter-of-fact tone  and  without  the  slightest  trace  of 
coquetry.  But  Johnson  did  not  make  the  mistake  of 
misconstruing  her  words,  puzzled  though  he  was  to 
find  a  clue  to  them.  His  curiosity  about  her  was  in- 
tense, and  it  showed  plainly  in  the  voice  that  said 
presently: 

"Isn't  it  strange  how  things  come  about? 
Strange  that  I  should  have  looked  everywhere  for 
you  and  in  the  end  find  you  here  —  at  The  Polka." 

Johnson's  emphasis  on  his  last  words  sent  a  bright 
red  rushing  over  her,  colouring  her  neck,  her  ears 
and  her  broad,  white  forehead. 

"  Anythin'  wrong  with  The  Polka  ?  " 

Johnson  was  conscious  of  an  indiscreet  remark; 
nevertheless  he  ventured: 

"  Well,  it's  hardly  the  place  for  a  young  woman 
like  you." 

The  Girl  made  no  reply  to  this  but  busied  herself 
with  the  closing-up  of  the  saloon.  Johnson  in- 


i46      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

terpreted  her  silence  as  a  difference  of  opinion. 
Nevertheless,  he  repeated  with  emphasis: 

"  It  is  decidedly  no  place  for  you." 

"How  so?" 

"  Well,  it's  rather  unprotected,  and  — " 

"  Oh,  pshaw !  "  interrupted  the  Girl  somewhat 
irritably.  "  I  toP  Ashby  only  to-night  that  I  bet  if 
a  rud  agent  come  in  here  I  could  offer  'im  a  drink 
an'  he'd  treat  me  like  a  perfect  lady."  She  stopped 
and  turned  upon  him  impulsively  with :  "  Say,  that 
reminds  me,  won't  you  take  somethin'  ?  " 

Before  answering,  Johnson  shot  her  a  quick  look 
of  inquiry  to  see  whether  there  was  not  a  hidden 
meaning  in  her  words.  Of  course  there  was  not,  the 
remark  being  impelled  by  a  sudden  consciousness 
that  he  might  consider  her  inhospitable.  Neverthe- 
less, her  going  behind  the  bar  and  picking  up  a  bot- 
tle came  somewhat  as  a  relief  to  him. 

"  No,  thank  you,"  at  last  he  said;  and  then  as  he 
leaned  heavily  on  the  bar:  "  But  I  would  very  much 
like  to  ask  you  a  question." 

Instantly,  to  his  great  surprise,  the  Girl  was  eye- 
ing him  with  mingled  reproach  and  coquetry.  So  he 
was  going  to  do  it !  Was  it  possible  that  he  thought 
so  lightly  of  her,  she  wondered.  With  all  her  heart 
she  wished  that  he  would  not  make  the  same  mistake 
that  others  had. 

"  I  know  what  it  is  —  every  stranger  asks  it  — 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      147 

but  I  didn't  think  you  would.  You  want  to  know  if 
I  am  decent?  Well,  I  am,  you  bet!  "  she  returned, 
a  defiant  note  creeping  into  her  voice  as  she  uttered 
the  concluding  words. 

"  Oh,  Girl,  I'm  not  blind !  "  His  eyes  quailed  be- 
fore the  look  that  flamed  in  hers.  "  And  that  was 
not  the  question." 

Instinctively  something  told  the  Girl  that  the  man 
spoke  the  truth,  but  notwithstanding  which,  she  per- 
mitted her  eyes  to  express  disbelief  and  "  Dear  me 
suz !  "  fell  from  her  lips  with  an  odd  little  laugh. 
On  the  other  hand,  Johnson  declined  to  treat  the 
subject  other  than  seriously.  He  had  no  desire,  of 
course,  to  enlarge  upon  the  unconventionality  of  her 
attitude,  but  he  felt  that  his  feelings  towards  her, 
even  if  they  were  only  friendly,  justified  him  in  giv- 
ing her  a  warning.  Moreover,  he  refused  to  admit 
to  himself  that  this  was  a  mere  chance  meeting.  He 
had  a  consciousness,  vague,  but  nevertheless  real  that, 
at  last,  after  all  his  searching,  Fate  had  brought  him 
face  to  face  with  the  one  woman  in  all  the  world  for 
him.  Unknown  to  himself,  therefore,  there  was  a 
sort  of  jealous  proprietorship  in  his  manner  towards 
her  as  he  now  said: 

"  What  I  meant  was  this :  I  am  sorry  to  find  you 
here  almost  at  the  mercy  of  the  passer-by,  where  a 
man  may  come,  may  drink,  may  rob  you  if  he  will  — " 
and  here  a  flush  of  shame  spread  over  his  features 


148      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

in  spite  of  himself  — "  and  where,  I  daresay,  more 
than  one  has  laid  claim  to  a  kiss.'* 

The  Girl  turned  upon  him  in  good-natured  con- 
tempt. 

"  There's  a  good  many  people  claimin'  things  they 
never  git.  I've  got  my  first  kiss  to  give." 

Once  more  a  brief  silence  fell  upon  them  in  which 
the  Girl  busied  herself  with  her  cash  box.  She  was 
not  unaware  that  his  eyes  were  upon  her,  but  she 
was  by  no  means  sure  that  he  believed  her  words. 
Nor  could  she  tell  herself,  unfortunately  for  her 
peace  of  mind,  that  it  made  no  difference  to  her. 

"  Have  you  been  here  long?  "  suddenly  he  asked. 

"  Yep." 

"Lived  in  The  Polka?" 

"  Nope." 

"Where  do  you  live?" 

"  Cabin  up  the  mountain  a  little  ways." 

"  Cabin  up  the  mountain  a  little  ways,"  echoed 
Johnson,  reflectively.  The  next  instant  the  little 
figure  before  him  had  faded  from  his  sight  and  in- 
stead there  appeared  a  vision  of  the  little  hut  on  the 
top  of  Cloudy  Mountain.  Only  a  few  hours  back 
he  had  stood  on  the  precipice  which  looked  towards 
it,  and  had  felt  a  vague,  indefinable  something,  had 
heard  a  voice  speak  to  him  out  of  the  vastness  which 
he  now  believed  to  have  been  her  spirit  calling  to 
him. 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      149 

"  You're  worth  something  better  than  this,"  after 
a  while  he  murmured  with  the  tenderness  of  real 
love  in  his  voice. 

"  What's  better'n  this?  "  questioned  the  Girl  with 
a  toss  of  her  pretty  blonde  head.  "  I  ain't  a-boastin' 
but  if  keepin'  this  saloon  don't  give  me  sort  of  a  posi- 
tion 'round  here  I  dunno  what  does." 

But  the  next  moment  there  had  flashed  through 
her  mind  a  new  thought  concerning  him.  She  came 
out  from  behind  the  bar  and  confronted  him  with 
the  question: 

"  Look  'ere,  you  ain't  one  o'  them  exhorters  from 
the  Missionaries'  Camp,  are  you?" 

The  road  agent  smiled. 

"  My  profession  has  its  faults,"  he  acknowledged, 
"  but  I  am  not  an  exhorter." 

But  still  the  Girl  was  nonplussed,  and  eyed  him 
steadily  for  a  moment  or  two. 

"  You  know  I  can't  figger  out  jest  exactly  what 
you  are?"  she  admitted  smilingly. 

"Well,  try  .  .  ."  he  suggested,  slightly  col- 
ouring under  her  persistent  gaze. 

u  Well,  you  ain't  one  o'  us." 

"No?" 

"  Oh,  I  can  tell  —  I  can  spot  my  man  every  time. 
I  tell  you,  keepin'  saloon's  a  great  educator."  And  so 
saying  she  plumped  herself  down  in  a  chair  and  went 
on  very  seriously  now:  "  I  dunno  but  what  it's  a 


150     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

good  way  to  bring  up  girls  —  they  git  to  know  things. 
Now,"  and  here  she  looked  at  him  long  and  ear- 
nestly, "  I'd  trust  you." 

Johnson  was  conscious  of  a  guilty  feeling,  though 
he  said  as  he  took  a  seat  beside  her: 

"  You  would  trust  me?  " 

The  Girl  nodded  an  assent  and  observed  in  a 
tone  that  was  intended  to  be  thoroughly  conclusive: 

"  Notice  I  danced  with  you  to-night?  " 

"  Yes,"  was  his  brief  reply,  though  the  next  mo- 
ment he  wondered  that  he  had  not  found  something 
more  to  say. 

"  I  seen  from  the  first  that  you  were  the  real 
article." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said  absently,  still  lost 
in  thought. 

"  Why,  that  was  a  compliment  I  handed  out  to 
you,"  returned  the  Girl  with  a  pained  look  on  her 
face. 

"  Oh !  "  he  ejaculated  with  a  faint  little  smile. 

Now  the  Girl,  who  had  drawn  up  her  chair  close 
to  his,  leaned  over  and  said  in  a  low,  confidential 
voice : 

"  Your  kind  don't  prevail  much  here.  I  can  tell 
—  I  got  what  you  call  a  quick  eye." 

As  might  be  expected  Johnson  flushed  guiltily  at 
this  remark.  No  different,  for  that  matter,  would 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      151 

have  acted  many  a  man  whose  conscience  was  far 
clearer. 

"  Oh,  I'm  afraid  that  men  like  me  prevail  —  pre- 
vail, as  you  say, —  almost  everywhere,"  he  said,  lay- 
ing such  stress  on  the  words  that  it  would  seem  al- 
most impossible  for  anyone  not  to  see  that  they  were 
shot  through  with  self-depreciation. 

The  Girl  gave  him  a  playful  dig  with  her  elbow. 

"  Go  on !  What  are  you  givin'  me  1  O'  course 
they  don't  .  .  .!"  She  laughed  outright;  but 
the  next  instant  checking  herself,  went  on  with  abso- 
lute ingenuousness:  "  Before  I  went  on  that  trip  to 
Monterey  I  tho't  Ranee  here  was  the  genuine  thing 
in  a  gent,  but  the  minute  I  kind  o'  glanced  over  you 
on  the  road  I  —  I  seen  he  wasn't."  She  stopped, 
a  realisation  having  suddenly  been  borne  in  upon  her 
that  perhaps  she  was  laying  her  heart  too  bare  to  him. 
To  cover  up  her  embarrassment,  therefore,  she  took 
refuge,  as  before,  in  hospitality,  and  rushing  over 
to  the  bar  she  called  to  Nick  to  come  and  serve  Mr. 
Johnson  with  a  drink,  only  to  dismiss  him  the  mo- 
ment he  put  his  head  through  the  door  with: 
"  Never  mind,  I'll  help  Mr.  Johnson  m'self."  Turn- 
ing to  her  visitor  again,  she  said:  "Have  your 
whisky  with  water,  won't  you?  " 

"  But  I  don't  — "  began  Johnson  in  protest. 

"  Say,"  interrupted  the  Girl,  falling  back  into  her 


152     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

favourite  position  of  resting  both  elbows  on  the  bar, 
her  face  in  her  hands,  "  I've  got  you  figgered  out. 
You're  awful  good  or  awful  bad."  A  remark 
which  seemed  to  amuse  the  man,  for  he  laughed 
heartily. 

"  Now,  what  do  you  mean  by  that?  "  presently  he 
asked. 

"  Well,  I  mean  so  good  that  you're  a  teetotaller, 
or  so  bad  that  you're  tired  o'  life  an'  whisky." 

Johnson  shook  his  head. 

"  On  the  contrary,  although  I'm  not  good,  I've 
lived  and  I've  liked  life  pretty  well.  It's  been 
bully!" 

Surprised  and  delighted  with  his  enthusiasm,  the 
Girl  raised  her  eyes  to  his,  which  look  he  mistook  — 
not  unnaturally  after  all  that  had  been  said  —  for 
one  of  encouragement.  A  moment  more  and  the  re- 
straint that  he  had  exercised  over  himself  had 
vanished  completely. 

"  So  have  you  liked  it,  Girl,"  he  went  on,  trying 
vainly  to  get  possession  of  her  hand,  "  only  you 
haven't  lived,  you  haven't  lived  —  not  with  your  na- 
ture. You  see  I've  got  a  quick  eye,  too." 

To  Johnson's  amazement  she  flushed  and  averted 
her  face.  Following  the  direction  of  her  eyes  he 
saw  Nick  standing  in  the  door  with  a  broad  grin  on 
his  face. 

"  You  git,  Nick !    What  do  you  mean  by    .    .    .?" 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      153 

cried  out  the  Girl  in  a  tone  that  left  no  doubt  in  the 
minds  of  her  hearers  that  she  was  annoyed,  if  not 
angry,  at  the  intrusion. 

Nick  disappeared  into  the  dance-hall  as  though 
shot  out  of  a  gun;  whereupon,  the  Girl  turned  to 
Johnson  with: 

"  I  haven't  lived  ?     That's  good  1  " 

Johnson's  next  words  were  insinuating,  but  his 
voice  was  cold  in  comparison  with  the  fervent  tones 
of  a  moment  previous. 

"  Oh,  you  know !  "  was  what  he  said,  seating  him- 
self at  the  poker  table. 

"  No,  I  don't,"  contradicted  the  Girl,  taking  a 
seat  opposite  him. 

"  Yes,  you  do,"  he  insisted. 

"  Well,  say  it's  an  even  chance  I  do  an'  an  even 
chance  I  don't,"  she  parried. 

Once  more  the  passion  in  the  man  was  stirring. 

"  I  mean,"  he  explained  in  a  voice  that  barely 
reached  her,  "  life  for  all  it's  worth,  to  the  uttermost, 
to  the  last  drop  in  the  cup,  so  that  it  atones  for  what's 
gone  before,  or  may  come  after." 

The  Girl's  face  wore  a  puzzled  look  as  she  an- 
swered: 

"  No,  I  don't  believe  I  know  what  you  mean  by 
them  words.  Is  it  a — "  She  cut  her  sentence 
short,  and  springing  up,  cried  out:  "Oh,  Lord  — 
Oh,  excuse  me,  I  sat  on  my  gun!  " 


154     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

Johnson  looked  at  her,  genuine  amusement 
depicted  on  his  face. 

"  Look  here,"  said  the  Girl,  suddenly  perching 
herself  upon  the  table,  "  I'm  goin'  to  make  you  an 
offer." 

"  An  offer?  "  Johnson  fairly  snatched  the  words 
out  of  her  mouth.  "  You're  going  to  make  me  an 
offer?" 

"  It's  this,"  declared  the  Girl  with  a  pleased  look 
on  her  face.  "  If  ever  you  need  to  be  staked  — " 

Johnson  eyed  her  uncomprehendingly. 

"  Which  o'  course  you  don't,"  she  hastened  to 
add.  "  Name  your  price.  It's  yours  jest  for  the 
style  I  git  from  you  an'  the  deportment." 

"Deportment?  Me?"  A  half-grin  formed 
over  Johnson's  face  as  he  asked  the  question;  then 
he  said:  "Well,  I  never  heard  before  that  my  so- 
ciety was  so  desirable.  Apart  from  the  financial 
aspect  of  this  matter,  I  — " 

"  Say,"  broke  in  the  Girl,  gazing  at  him  in  help- 
less admiration,  "  ain't  that  great?  Ain't  that  great? 
Oh,  you  got  to  let  me  stand  treat!  " 

"  No,  really  I  would  prefer  not  to  take  anything," 
responded  Johnson,  putting  a  restraining  hand  on 
her  as  she  was  about  to  leap  from  the  table. 

At  that  moment  Nick's  hurried  footsteps  reached 
their  ears.  Turning,  the  Girl,  with  a  swift  gesture, 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      155 

waved  him  back.  There  was  a  brief  silence,  then 
Johnson  spoke: 

"  Say,  Girl,  you're  like  finding  some  new  kind  of 
flower." 

A  slight  laugh  of  confusion  was  his  answer.  The 
next  moment,  however,  she  went  on,  speaking  very 
slowly  and  seriously :  "  Well,  we're  kind  o'  rough 
up  here,  but  we're  reachin'  out." 

Johnson  noted  immediately  the  change  in  her 
voice.  There  was  no  mistaking  the  genuineness  of 
her  emotion,  nor  the  wistful  look  in  her  eyes.  It 
was  plain  that  she  yearned  for  someone  who  would 
teach  her  the  ways  of  the  outside  world;  and  when 
the  man  looked  at  the  Girl  with  the  lamp-light  soft- 
ening her  features,  he  felt  her  sincerity  and  was 
pleased  by  her  confidence. 

"  Now,  I  take  it,"  continued  the  Girl  with  a  vague, 
dreamy  look  on  her  face,  "  that's  what  we're  all  put 
on  this  earth  for  —  everyone  of  us  —  is  to  rise  our- 
selves up  in  the  world  —  to  reach  out." 

"  That's  true,  that's  true,"  returned  Johnson  with 
gentle  and  perfect  sympathy.  "  I  venture  to  say 
that  there  isn't  a  man  who  hasn't  thought  seriously 
about  that.  I  have.  If  only  one  knew  how  to  reach 
out  for  something  one  hardly  dares  even  hope  for. 
Why,  it's  like  trying  to  catch  the  star  shining  just 
ahead." 


156     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

The  Girl  could  not  restrain  her  enthusiasm. 

"  That's  the  cheese !     You've  struck  it !  " 

At  this  juncture  Nick  appeared  and  refused  to  be 
ordered  away.  At  length,  the  Girl  inquired  some- 
what impatiently: 

"Well,  what  is  it,  Nick?" 

"  I've  been  tryin'  to  say,"  announced  the  bar- 
keeper, whose  face  wore  an  expression  of  uneasiness 
as  he  pointed  to  the  window,  "  that  I  have  seen  an 
ugly-lookin'  greaser  hanging  around  outside." 

"A  greaser!"  exclaimed  the  Girl,  uneasily. 
"  Let  me  look."  And  with  that  she  made  a  move- 
ment towards  the  window,  but  was  held  back  by 
Johnson's  detaining  hand.  All  too  well  did  he  know 
that  the  Mexican  was  one  of  his  men  waiting  impa* 
tiently  for  the  signal.  So,  with  an  air  of  concern, 
for  he  did  not  intend  that  the  Girl  should  run  any 
risk,  however  remote,  he  said  authoritatively: 

"  Don't  go!"- 

"  Why  not?  "  demanded  the  Girl. 

Johnson  sat  strangely  silent. 

"  I'll  bolt  the  windows !  "  cried  Nick.  Hardly 
had  he  disappeared  into  the  dance-hall  when  a  low 
whistle  came  to  their  ears. 

"  The  signal  —  they're  waiting,"  said  Johnson 
under  his  breath,  and  shot  a  quick  look  of  inquiry  at 
the  Girl  to  see  whether  she  had  heard  the  sound. 
A  look  told  him  that  she  had,  and  was  uneasy  over  it. 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      157 

"  Don't  that  sound  horrid?  "  said  the  Girl,  reach- 
ing the  bar  in  a  state  of  perturbation.  "  Say,  I'm 
awful  glad  you're  here.  Nick's  so  nervous.  He 
knows  what  a  lot  o'  money  I  got.  Why,  there's  a 
little  fortune  in  that  keg." 

Johnson  started;  then  rising  slowly  he  went  over 
to  the  keg  and  examined  it  with  interest. 

"In  there?"  he  asked,  with  difficulty  concealing 
his  excitement. 

"  Yes;  the  boys  sleep  around  it  nights,"  she  went 
on  to  confide. 

Johnson  looked  at  her  curiously. 

"  But  when  they're  gone  —  isn't  that  rather  a 
careless  place  to  leave  it?  " 

Quietly  the  Girl  came  from  behind  the  bar  and 
went  over  and  stood  beside  the  keg;  when  she  spoke 
her  eyes  flashed  dangerously. 

"  They'd  have  to  kill  me  before  they  got  it,"  she 
said,  with  cool  deliberation. 

"  Oh,  I  see  —  it's  your  money." 

"  No,  it's  the  boys'." 

A  look  of  relief  crossed  Johnson's  features. 

"  Oh,  that's  different,"  he  contended;  and  then 
brightening  up  somewhat,  he  went  on :  u  Now,  I 
wouldn't  risk  my  life  for  that." 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  would,  yes,  you  would,"  declared 
the  Girl  with  feeling.  A  moment  later  she  was 
down  on  her  knees  putting  bag  after  bag  of  the 


158      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

precious  gold-dust  and  coins  into  the  keg.  When 
they  were  all  in  she  closed  the  lid,  and  putting  her 
foot  down  hard  to  make  it  secure,  she  repeated: 
"  Oh,  yes,  you  would,  if  you  seen  how  hard  they 
got  it.  When  I  think  of  it,  I  nearly  cry." 

Johnson  had  listened  absorbedly,  and  was 
strangely  affected  by  her  words.  In  her  rapidly- 
filling  eyes,  in  the  wave  of  colour  that  surged  in  her 
cheeks,  in  the  voice  that  shook  despite  her  efforts  to 
control  it,  he  read  how  intense  was  her  interest  in 
the  welfare  of  the  miners.  How  the  men  must 
adore  her! 

Unconsciously  the  Girl  arose,  and  said: 
"  There's  somethin'  awful  pretty  in  the  way  the 
boys  hold  out  before  they  strike  it,  somethin'  awful 
pretty  in  the  face  o'  rocks,  an'  clay  an'  alkali.  Oh, 
Lord,  what  a  life  it  is  anyway !  They  eat  dirt,  they 
sleep  in  dirt,  they  breathe  dirt  'til  their  backs  are 
bent,  their  hands  twisted  an'  warped.  They're  all 
wind-swept  an'  blear-eyed  I  tell  you,  an'  some  o' 
them  jest  lie  down  in  their  sweat  beside  the  sluices, 
an'  they  don't  never  rise  up  again.  I've  seen  'em 
there!"  She  paused  reminiscently;  then,  pointing 
to  the  keg,  she  went  on  haltingly :  "  I  got  some 
money  there  of  OF  Brownie's.  He  was  lyin'  out 
in  the  sun  on  a  pile  o'  clay  two  weeks  ago,  an'  I  guess 
the  only  clean  thing  about  him  was  his  soul,  an'  he 
was  quittin',  quittin',  quittin',  right  there  on  the  clay, 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      159 

an'  quittin'  hard.  Oh,  so  hard !  "  Once  more  she 
stopped  and  covered  her  face  with  her  hands  as  if  to 
shut  out  the  horror  of  it  all.  Presently  she  had  her- 
self under  control  and  resumed:  "Yes,  he  died  — 
died  jest  like  a  dog.  You  wanted  to  shoot  'im  to 
help  'im  along  quicker.  Before  he  went  he  sez  to 
me :  '  Girl,  give  it  to  my  oF  woman.'  That  was  all 
he  said,  an'  he  went.  She'll  git  it,  all  right." 

With  every  word  that  the  Girl  uttered,  the  iron 
had  entered  deeper  into  Johnson's  soul.  Up  to  the 
present  time  he  had  tried  to  regard  his  profession, 
if  he  looked  at  it  at  all,  from  the  point  of  view  which 
he  inherited  from  his  father.  It  was  not,  in  all 
truthfulness,  what  he  would  have  chosen;  it  was 
something  that,  at  times,  he  lamented;  but,  neverthe- 
less, he  had  practised  it  and  had  despoiled  the  miners 
with  but  few  moments  of  remorse.  But  now,  he  was 
beginning  to  look  upon  things  differently.  In  a 
brief  space  of  time  a  woman  had  impelled  him  to  see 
his  actions  in  their  true  light;  new  ambitions  and 
desires  awakened,  and  he  looked  downward  as  if  it 
were  impossible  to  meet  her  honest  eye. 

"An'  that's  what  aches  you,"  the  Girl  was  now 
saying.  "  There  ain't  one  o'  them  men  workin'  for 
themselves  alone  —  the  Lord  never  put  it  into  no 
man's  heart  to  make  a  beast  or  a  pack-horse  o'  him- 
self, except  for  some  woman  or  some  child."  She 
halted  a  moment,  and  throwing  up  her  hands  impul- 


160     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

sively,  she  cried :  "  Ain't  it  wonderful  —  ain't  it 
wonderful  that  instinct?  Ain't  it  wonderful  what  a 
man'll  do  when  it  comes  to  a  woman  —  ain't  it  won- 
derful? "  Once  more  she  waited  as  if  expecting  him 
to  corroborate  her  words ;  but  he  remained  strangely 
silent.  A  moment  later  when  he  raised  his  troubled 
eyes,  he  saw  that  hers  were  dry  and  twinkling. 

"  Well,  the  boys  use  me  as  a  —  a  sort  of  lady 
bank,"  presently  she  said;  and  then  added  with  an- 
other quick  change  of  expression,  and  in  a  voice  that 
showed  great  determination:  "You  bet  I'll  drop 
down  dead  before  anyone'll  get  a  dollar  o'  theirs 
outer  The  Polka!" 

Impulsively  the  road  agent's  hand  went  out  to  her, 
and  with  it  went  a  mental  resolution  that  so  far  as 
he  was  concerned  no  hard-working  miner  of  Cloudy 
Mountain  need  fear  for  his  gold! 

"  That's  right,"  was  what  he  said.  "  I'm  with 
you  —  I'd  like  to  see  anyone  get  that."  He  dropped 
her  hand  and  laid  his  on  the  keg;  then  with  a  voice 
charged  with  much  feeling,  he  added :  "  Girl,  I 
wish  to  Heaven  I  could  talk  more  with  you,  but  I 
can't.  By  daybreak  I  must  be  a  long  ways  off. 
I'm  sorry  —  I  should  have  liked  to  have  called  at 
your  cabin." 

The  Girl  shot  him  a  furtive  glance. 

"  Must  you  be  a-movin'  so  soon?  "  she  asked. 

"Yes;  I'm  only  waiting  till  the  posse  gets  back 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      161 

*nd  you're  safe."  And  even  as  he  spoke  his  trained 
ear  caught  the  sound  of  horses  hoofs.  "  Why, 
they're  coming  now !  "  he  exclaimed  with  suppressed 
excitement,  and  his  eyes  immediately  fastened  them- 
selves on  his  saddle. 

The  Girl  looked  her  disappointment  when  she 
said: 

"  I'm  awfully  sorry  you've  got  to  go.  I  was 
goin'  to  say — "  She  stopped,  and  began  to  roll  the 
keg  back  to  its  place.  Now  she  took  the  lantern 
from  the  bar  and  placed  it  on  the  keg;  then  turning 
to  him  once  more  she  went  on  in  a  voice  that  was  dis- 
tinctly persuasive :  "  If  you  didn't  have  to  go  so 
soon,  I  would  like  to  have  you  come  up  to  the  cabin 
to-night  an'  we  would  talk  o'  reachin'  out  up  there. 
You  see,  the  boys  will  be  back  here  —  we  close  The 
Polka  at  one  —  any  time  after  .  .  ." 

Hesitatingly,  helplessly,  Johnson  stared  at  the 
Girl  before  him.  His  acceptance,  he  realised  only 
too  well,  meant  a  pleasant  hour  or  two  for  him,  of 
which  there  were  only  too  few  in  the  mad  career  that 
he  was  following,  and  he  wanted  to  take  advantage 
of  it;  on  the  other  hand,  his  better  judgment  told 
him  that  already  he  should  be  on  his  way. 

"  Why,  I  —  I  should  ride  on  now."  He  began 
and  then  stopped,  the  next  moment,  however,  he 
threw  down  his  hat  on  the  table  in  resignation  and  an- 
nounced: "I'll  come." 


1 62      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

"  Oh,  good !  "  cried  the  Girl,  making  no  attempt 
to  conceal  her  delight.  "  You  can  use  this,"  she  went 
on,  handing  him  the  lantern.  "  It's  the  straight  trail 
up;  you  can't  miss  it.  But  I  say,  don't  expect  too 
much  o'  me  —  I've  only  had  thirty-two  dollars' 
worth  o'  education."  Despite  her  struggle  to  con- 
trol herself,  her  voice  broke  and  her  eyes  filled  with 
tears.  "  P'r'aps  if  I'd  had  more,"  she  kept  on, 
regretfully,  "  why,  you  can't  tell  what  I  might  have 
been.  Say,  that's  a  terrible  tho't,  ain't  it?  What 
we  might  a  been  —  an'  I  know  it  when  I  look  at  you." 

Johnson  was  deeply  touched  at  the  Girl's  distress, 
and  his  voice  broke,  too,  as  he  said: 

"  Yes,  what  we  might  have  been  is  a  terrible 
thought,  and  I  know  it,  Girl,  when  I  look  at  you  — 
when  I  look  at  you." 

"You  bet!"  ejaculated  the  Girl.  And  then  to 
Johnson's  consternation  she  broke  down  completely, 
burying  her  face  in  her  hands  and  sobbing  out: 
"  Oh,  'tain't  no  use,  I'm  rotten,  I'm  ignorant,  I  don't 
know  nothin'  an'  I  never  knowed  it  'till  to-night! 
The  boys  always  tol'  me  I  knowed  so  much,  but 
they're  such  damn  liars!  " 

In  an  instant  Johnson  was  beside  her,  patting  her 
hand  caressingly;  she  felt  the  sympathy  in  his  touch 
and  was  quick  to  respond  to  it. 

"  Don't  you  care,  Girl,  you're  all  right,"  he  told 
her,  choking  back  with  difficulty  the  tears  in  his  own 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      163 

voice.  "  You're  heart's  all  right,  that's  the  main 
thing.  And  as  for  your  looks?  Well,  to  me  you've 
got  the  face  of  an  angel  —  the  face  — "  He  broke 
off  abruptly  and  ended  with :  "  Oh,  but  I  must  be 
going  now!  " 

A  moment  more  and  he  stood  framed  in  the  door- 
way, his  saddle  in  one  hand  and  the  Girl's  lantern  in 
the  other,  torn  by  two  emotions  which  grappled  with 
each  other  in  his  bosom.  "  Johnson,  what  the 
devil's  the  matter  with  you  ? "  he  muttered  half- 
aloud;  then  suddenly  pulling  himself  together  he 
stumbled  rather  than  walked  out  of  The  Polka  into 
the  night. 

Motionless  and  trying  to  check  her  sobs,  the  Girl 
remained  where  he  had  left  her;  but  a  few  minutes 
later,  when  Nick  entered,  all  trace  of  her  tears  had 
disappeared. 

"  Nick,"  said  she,  all  smiles  now,  "  run  over  to 
The  Palmetto  restaurant  an'  tell  'em  to  send  me  up 
two  charlotte  rusks  an'  a  lemming  turnover  —  a 
good,  big,  fat  one  —  jest  as  quick  as  they  can  —  right 
up  to  the  cabin  for  supper." 

"  He  says  I  have  the  face  of  an  angel,"  is  what 
the  Girl  repeated  over  and  over  again  to  herself  when 
perched  up  again  on  the  poker  table  after  the  won- 
dering barkeeper  had  departed  on  her  errand,  and 
for  a  brief  space  of  time  her  countenance  reflected 
the  joy  that  Johnson's  parting  words  had  imprinted 


1 64     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

on  her  heart.  But  in  the  Girl's  character  there  was 
an  element  too  prosaic,  and  too  practical,  to  permit  her 
thoughts  to  dwell  long  in  a  region  lifted  far  above 
the  earth.  It  was  inevitable,  therefore,  that  the  no- 
tion should  presently  strike  her  as  supremely  comic 
and,  quickly  leaping  to  the  floor,  she  let  out  the  one 
word  which,  however  adequately  it  may  have  ex- 
pressed her  conflicting  emotions,  is  never  by  any 
chance  to  be  found  in  the  vocabulary  of  angels  in 
good  standing. 


IX 

NOTWITHSTANDING  that  The  Palmetto  was  the  most 
pretentious  building  in  Cloudy,  and  was  the  only 
rooming  and  eating  house  that  outwardly  asserted  its 
right  to  be  called  an  hotel,  its  saloon  contrasted  un- 
favourably with  its  rival,  The  Polka.  There  was  not 
the  individuality  of  the  Girl  there  to  charm  away  the 
impress  of  coarseness  settled  upon  it  by  the  loafers, 
the  habitual  drunkards  and  the  riffraff  of  the  camp, 
who  were  not  tolerated  elsewhere.  In  short,  it  did 
not  have  that  certain  indefinable  something  which 
gave  to  The  Polka  Saloon  an  almost  homelike  ap- 
pearance, but  was  a  drab,  squalid,  soulless  place  with 
nothing  to  recommend  it  but  its  size. 

In  a  small  parlour  pungent  at  all  times  with  the 
odour  of  liquor, —  but  used  only  on  rare  occasions, 
most  of  The  Palmetto's  patrons  preferring  the  even 
more  stifling  atmosphere  of  the  bar-room, —  the 
Wells  Fargo  Agent  had  been  watching  and  waiting 
ever  since  he  had  left  The  Polka  Saloon.  On  a 
table  in  front  of  him  was  a  bottle,  for  it  was  a  part 
of  Ashby's  scheme  of  things  to  solace  thus  all  such 
weary  hours. 

Although  a  shrewd  judge  of  women  of  the  Nina 
Micheltorena  type  and  by  no  means  unmindful  of 
their  mercurial  temperament,  Ashby,  nevertheless, 
165 


1 66     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

had  felt  that  she  would  keep  her  appointment  with 
him.  In  the  Mexican  Camp  he  had  read  the  wild 
jealousy  in  her  eyes,  and  had  assumed,  not  unnatu- 
rally, that  there  had  been  scarcely  time  for  anything 
to  occur  which  would  cause  a  revulsion  of  feeling  on 
her  part.  But  as  the  moments  went  by,  and  still  she 
did  not  put  in  an  appearance,  an  expression  of  keen 
disappointment  showed  itself  on  his  face  and,  with 
mechanical  regularity,  he  carried  out  the  liquid  pro- 
gramme, shutting  his  eyes  after  each  drink  for  mo- 
ments at  a  time  yet,  apparently,  in  perfect  control  of 
his  mind  when  he  opened  them  again;  and  it  was  in 
one  of  these  moments  that  he  heard  a  step  outside 
which  he  correctly  surmised  to  be  that  of  the  Sheriff. 

Without  a  word  Ranee  walked  into  the  room  and 
over  to  the  table  and  helped  himself  to  a  drink  from 
the  bottle  there,  which  action  the  Wells  Fargo  Agent 
rightly  interpreted  as  meaning  that  the  posse  had 
failed  to  catch  their  quarry.  At  first  a  glint  of  satis- 
faction shone  in  Ashby's  eyes:  not  that  he  disliked 
Ranee,  but  rather  that  he  resented  his  egotistical 
manner  and  evident  desire  to  overawe  all  who  came 
in  contact  with  him;  and  it  required,  therefore,  no 
little  effort  on  his  part  to  banish  this  look  from  his 
face  and  make  up  his  mind  not  to  mention  the  sub- 
ject in  any  manner. 

For  some  time,  therefore,  the  two  officers  sat  op- 
posite to  each  other  inhaling  the  stale  odour  of  to- 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      167 

bacco  and  spirits  peculiar  to  this  room,  with  little  or 
no  ventilation.  It  was  enough  to  sicken  anyone,  but 
both  men,  accustomed  to  such  places  in  the  pursuit 
of  their  calling,  apparently  thought  nothing  of  it, 
the  Sheriff  seemingly  absorbed  in  contemplating  the 
long  ash  at  the  end  of  his  cigar,  but,,  in  reality,  turn- 
ing over  in  his  mind  whether  he  should  leave  the 
room  or  not.  At  length,  he  inaugurated  a  little  con- 
test of  opinion. 

"  This  woman  isn't  coming,  that's  certain,"  he  de- 
clared, impatiently. 

"  I  rather  think  she  will;  she  promised  not  to  fail 
me,"  was  the  other's  quiet  answer;  and  he  added: 
"  In  ten  minutes  you'll  see  her." 

It  was  a  rash  remark  and  expressive  of  a  confi- 
dence that  he  by  no  means  felt.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
it  was  induced  solely  by  the  cynical  smile  which  he 
perceived  on  the  Sheriff's  face. 

"  You,  evidently,  take  no  account  of  the  fact  that 
the  lady  may  have  changed  her  mind,"  observed 
Ranee,  lighting  a  fresh  cigar.  "  The  Nina  Michel- 
torefias  are  fully  as  privileged  as  others  of  their 
sex." 

As  he  drained  his  glass  Ashby  gave  the  speaker 
a  sharp  glance;  another  side  of  Ranee's  character 
had  cropped  out.  Moreover,  Ashby's  quick  intui- 
tion told  him  that  the  other's  failure  to  catch  the  out- 
law was  not  troubling  him  nearly  as  much  as  was  the 


1 68      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

blow  which  his  conceit  had  probably  received  at  the 
hands  of  the  Girl.  It  was,  therefore,  in  an  indulgent 
tone  that  he  said: 

"  No,  Ranee,  not  this  one  nor  this  time.  You 
mark  my  words,  the  woman  is  through  with  Ramer- 
rez.  At  least,  she  is  so  jealous  that  she  thinks  she 
is.  She'll  turn  up  here,  never  fear;  she  means 
business." 

The  shoulders  of  Mr.  Jack  Ranee  strongly  sug- 
gested a  shrug,  but  the  man  himself  said  nothing. 
They  were  anything  but  sympathetic  companions, 
these  two  officers,  and  in  the  silence  that  ensued 
Ranee  formulated  mentally  more  than  one  dispar- 
aging remark  about  the  big  man  sitting  opposite  to 
him.  It  is  possible,  of  course,  that  the  Sheriff's 
rebuff  by  the  Girl,  together  with  the  wild  goose  chase 
which  he  had  recently  taken  against  his  better  judg- 
ment, had  something  to  do  with  this  bitterness;  but 
it  was  none  the  less  true  that  he  found  himself  won- 
dering how  Ashby  had  succeeded  in  acquiring  his 
great  reputation.  Among  the  things  that  he  held 
against  him  was  his  everlasting  propensity  to  boast 
of  his  achievements,  to  say  nothing  of  the  pedestal 
upon  which  the  boys  insisted  upon  placing  him. 
Was  this  Wells  Fargo's  most  famous  agent?  Was 
this  the  man  whose  warnings  were  given  such  cre- 
dence that  they  stirred  even  the  largest  of  the  gold 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      169 

camps  into  a  sense  of  insecurity?  And  at  this  Ranee 
indulged  again  in  a  fit  of  mental  merriment  at  the 
other's  expense. 

But,  although  he  would  have  denied  it  in  toto,  the 
truth  of  the  matter  was  that  the  Sheriff  was  jealous 
of  Ashby.  Witty,  generous,  and  a  high  liver,  the 
latter  was  generally  regarded  as  a  man  who  fasci- 
nated women;  moreover,  he  was  known  to  be  a 
favourite  —  and  here  the  shoe  pinched  —  with  the 
Girl.  True,  the  demands  of  his  profession  were 
such  as  to  prevent  his  staying  long  in  any  camp. 
Nevertheless,  it  seemed  to  Ranee  that  he  contrived 
frequently  to  turn  up  at  The  Polka  when  the  boys 
were  at  the  diggings. 

After  Ashby's  observation  the  conversation  by 
mutual,  if  unspoken,  consent,  was  switched  into  other 
channels.  But  it  may  be  truthfully  said  that  Ranee 
did  not  wholly  recover  his  mental  equilibrium  until 
a  door  was  heard  to  open  noiselessly  and  soms  whis- 
pered words  in  Spanish  fell  upon  their  ears. 

Now  the  Sheriff,  as  well  as  Ashby,  had  the  de- 
tective instinct  fully  developed;  moreover,  both  men 
knew  a  few  words  of  that  language  and  had  an  ex- 
treme curiosity  to  hear  the  conversation  going  on 
between  a  man  and  a  woman,  who  were  standing  just 
outside  in  a  sort  of  hallway.  As  a  result,  therefore, 
both  officers  sprang  to  the  door  with  the  hop*  —  if 


1 70     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

indeed  it  was  Nina  Micheltorena  as  they  surmised  — 
that  they  might  catch  a  word  or  two  which  would 
give  them  a  clue  to  what  was  likely  to  take  place  at 
the  coming  interview.  It  came  sooner  than  they  ex- 
pected. 

".  .  .  Ramerrez  —  Five  thousand  dollars !  " 
reached  their  ears  in  a  soft,  Spanish  voice. 

Ashby  needed  nothing  more  than  this.  In  an  in- 
stant, much  to  the  Sheriff's  astonishment,  and  moving 
marvellously  quick  for  a  man  of  his  heavy  build,  he 
was  out  of  the  room,  leaving  Ranee  to  face  a  woman 
with  a  black  mantilla  thrown  over  her  head  who, 
presently,  entered  by  another  door.  , 

Nina  Micheltorena,  for  it  was  she,  did  not  favour 
him  with  as  much  as  an  icy  look.  Nor  did  the  Sher- 
iff give  any  sign  of  knowing  her;  a  wise  proceeding 
as  it  turned  out,  for  a  quick  turn  of  the  head  and  a 
subtle  movement  of  the  woman's  shoulders  told  him 
that  she  was  in  anything  but  a  quiet  state  of  mind. 
One  glance  towards  the  door  behind  him,  however, 
and  the  reason  of  her  anger  was  all  too  plain:  A 
Mexican  was  vainly  struggling  in  the  clutches  of 
Ashby. 

"Why  are  you  dragging  him  in?"  Far  from 
quailing  before  him  as  did  her  confederate,  she  con- 
fronted Ashby  with  eyes  that  flashed  fire.  "  He 

came  with  me  — " 

j 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      171 

Ashby  cut  her  short. 

"  We  don't  allow  greasers  in  this  camp  and  — " 
he  began  in  a  throaty  voice. 

"  But  he  is  waiting  to  take  me  back!  "  she  ob- 
jected, and  then  added:  "I  wish  him  to  wait  for 
me  outside,  and  unless  you  allow  him  to  I'll  go  at 
once."  And  with  these  words  she  made  a  movement 
towards  the  door. 

Ashby  laid  one  restraining  hand  upon  her,  while 
with  the  other  he  held  on  to  the  Mexican.  Of  a  sud* 
den  there  had  dawned  upon  him  the  conviction  that 
for  once  in  his  life  he  had  made  a  grievous  mistake. 
He  had  thought,  by  the  detention  of  her  confederate, 
to  have  two  strings  to  his  bow,  but  one  glance  at  the 
sneeringly  censorious  expression  on  the  Sheriff's  face 
convinced  him  that  no  information  would  be  forth- 
coming from  the  woman  while  in  her  present  rebel- 
lious mood. 

"  All  right,  my  lady,"  he  said,  for  the  time  being 
yielding  to  her  will,  "  have  your  way."  And  turn- 
ing now  to  the  Mexican,  he  added  none  too  gently: 
"  Here  you,  get  out  I  " 

Whereupon  the  Mexican  slunk  out  of  the  room. 

"  There's  no  use  of  your  getting  into  a  rage," 
went  on  Ashby,  turning  to  the  woman  in  a  slightly 
conciliatory  manner.  "  I  calculated  that  the  greaser 
would  be  in  on  the  job,  too." 


172      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

All  through  this  scene  Ranee  had  been  sitting  back 
in  his  chair  chewing  his  cigar  in  contemptuous  silence, 
while  his  face  wore  a  look  of  languid  insolence,  a 
fact  which,  apparently,  did  not  disturb  the  woman  in 
the  least,  for  she  ignored  him  completely. 

"  It  was  well  for  you,  Sefior  Ashby,  that  you  let 
him  go.  I  tell  you  frankly  that  in  another  moment 
I  should  have  gone."  And  now  throwing  back  her 
mantilla  she  took  out  a  cigarette  from  a  dainty,  little 
case  and  lit  it  and  coolly  blew  a  cloud  of  smoke  in 
Ranee's  face,  saying:  "It  depends  on  how  you 
treat  me  —  you,  Mr.  Jack  Ranee,  as  well  as  Sefior 
Ashby  —  whether  we  come  to  terms  or  not.  Per- 
haps I  had  better  go  away  anyway,"  she  concluded 
with  a  shrug  of  admirably  simulated  indifference. 

This  time  Ashby  sat  perfectly  still.  It  was  not 
difficult  to  perceive  that  her  anger  was  decreasing 
with  every  word  that  she  uttered;  nor  did  he  fail  to 
note  how  fluently  she  spoke  English,  a  slight  Spanish 
accent  giving  added  charm  to  her  wonderfully  soft 
and  musical  voice.  How  gloriously  beautiful,  he 
told  himself,  she  looked  as  she  stood  there,  voluptu- 
ous, compelling,  alluring,  the  expression  that  had 
been  almost  diabolical,  gradually  fading  from  her 
face.  Was  it  possible,  he  asked  himself,  that  all  this 
loveliness  was  soiled  forever?  He  felt  that  there 
was  something  pitiful  in  the  fact  that  the  woman 
standing  before  him  represented  negotiable  property 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      173 

which  could  be  purchased  by  any  passer-by  who  had 
a  few  more  nuggets  in  his  possession  than  his  neigh- 
bour; and,  perhaps,  because  of  his  knowledge  of  the 
piteous  history  of  this  former  belle  of  Monterey  he 
put  a  little  more  consideration  into  the  voice  that 
said: 

"  All  right,  Nina,  we'll  get  down  to  business. 
What  have  you  to  say  to  us?  " 

By  this  time  Nina's  passionate  anger  had  burned 
itself  out.  In  anticipation,  perhaps,  of  what  she  was 
about  to  do,  she  looked  straight  ahead  of  her  into 
space.  It  was  not  because  she  was  assailed  by  some 
transient  emotion  to  forswear  her  treacherous  desire 
for  vengeance ;  she  had  no  illusion  of  that  kind.  Too 
vividly  she  recalled  the  road  agent's  indifferent 
manner  at  their  last  interview  for  any  feeling  to 
dwell  in  her  heart  other  than  hatred.  It  was  that 
she  was  summoning  to  appear  a  vision  scarcely  less 
attractive,  however  pregnant  with  tragedy,  than  that 
of  seeing  herself  avenged:  a  gay,  extravagant  career 
in  Mexico  or  Spain  which  the  reward  would  procure 
for  her.  That  was  what  she  was  seeing,  and  with  a 
pious  wish  for  its  confirmation  she  began  to  make 
herself  a  fresh  cigarette,  rolling  it  dexterously  with 
her  white,  delicate  fingers,  and  not  until  her  task  was 
accomplished  and  her  full,  red  lips  were  sending 
forth  tiny  clouds  of  smoke  did  she  announce : 

"  Ramerrez  was  in  Cloudy  Mountain  to-night." 


174     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

But  however  much  of  a  surprise  this  assertion  was 
to  both  men,  neither  gave  vent  to  an  exclamation. 
Instead  Ranee  regarded  his  elegantly  booted  feet; 
Ashby  looked  hard  at  the  woman  as  if  he  would  read 
the  truth  in  her  eyes;  while  as  for  Nina,  she  con- 
tinued to  puff  away  at  her  little  cigarette  after  the 
manner  of  one  that  has  appealed  not  in  vain  to  the 
magic  power  which  can  paint  out  the  past  and  fill  the 
blank  with  the  most  beautiful  of  dreams. 

The  Wells  Fargo  man  was  the  first  to  make  any 
comment;  he  asked: 

"  You  know  this  ?  "  And  then  as  she  surveyed 
them  through  a  scented  cloud  and  bowed  her  head, 
he  added:  "  How  do  you  know  it?  " 

"  That  I  shall  not  tell  you,"  replied  the  woman, 
firmly. 

Ashby  made  an  impatient  movement  towards  her 
with  the  question : 

"Where  was  he?" 

"  Oh,  come,  Ashby!  "  put  in  Ranee,  speaking  for 
the  first  time.  "  She's  putting  up  a  game  on  us." 

In  a  flash  Nina  wheeled  around  and  with  eyes  that 
blazed  advanced  to  the  table  where  the  Sheriff  was 
sitting.  Indeed,  there  was  something  so  tigerish 
about  the  woman  that  the  Sheriff,  in  alarm,  quickly 
pushed  back  his  chair. 

"  I  am  not  lying,  Jack  Ranee."  There  was  an 
evil  glitter  in  her  eye  as  she  watched  a  sarcastic  smile 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      175 

playing  around  his  lips.  "  Oh,  yes,  I  know  you 
—  you  are  the  Sheriff,"  and  so  saying  a  peal  of 
contemptuous  merriment  burst  from  her,  "  and 
Ramerrez  was  in  the  camp  not  less  than  two  hours 
ago." 

Ashby  could  hardly  restrain  his  excitement. 

"  And  you  saw  him  ?  "  came  from  him. 

"  Yes,"  was  her  answer. 

Both  men  sprang  to  their  feet ;  it  was  impossible  to 
doubt  any  longer  that  she  spoke  the  truth. 

"  What's  his  game  ?  "  demanded  Ranee. 

The  woman  answered  his  question  with  a  question. 

"  How  about  the  reward,  Senor  Ashby?  " 

"  You  needn't  worry  about  that  —  I'll  see  that 
you  get  what's  coming  to  you,"  replied  the  Wells 
Fargo  Agent  already  getting  into  his  coat. 

"  But  how  are  we  to  know?  "  inquired  Ranee,  like- 
wise getting  ready  to  leave.  "  Is  he  an  American  or 
a  Mexican?" 

"  To-night  he's  an  American,  that  is,  he's  dressed 
and  looks  like  one.  But  the  reward  —  you  swear 
you're  playing  fair?" 

"  On  my  honour,"  Ashby  assured  her. 

The  woman's  face  stood  clear  —  cruelly  clear  in 
the  light  of  the  kerosene  lamp  above  her  head. 
About  her  mouth  and  eyes  there  was  a  repellent  ex- 
pression. Her  mind,  still  working  vividly,  was  re- 
viewing the  past;  and  a  bitter  memory  prompted  the 


1 76     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

words  which  were  said  however  with  a  smile  that 
was  still  seductive: 

"  Try  to  recall,  Senor  Ashby,  what  strangers  were 
in  The  Polka  to-night?  " 

At  these  ominous  words  the  men  started  and  re- 
garded each  other  questioningly.  Their  keen  and 
trained  intelligences  were  greatly  distressed  at  being 
so  utterly  in  the  dark.  For  an  instant,  it  is  true,  the 
thought  of  the  greaser  that  Ashby  had  brought  in 
rose  uppermost  in  their  minds,  but  only  to  be  dis- 
missed quickly  when  they  recalled  the  woman's  words 
concerning  the  way  that  the  road  agent  was  dressed. 
A  moment  more,  however,  and  a  strange  thought 
had  fastened  itself  on  one  of  their  active  minds  —  a 
thought  which,  although  persisting  in  forcing  itself 
upon  the  Sheriff's  consideration,  was  in  the  end  re- 
jected as  wholly  improbable.  But  who  was  it  then? 
In  his  intensity  Ranee  let  his  cigar  go  out. 

"  Ah !  "  at  last  he  cried.  "  Johnson,  by  the 
eternal!" 

"Johnson?"  echoed  Ashby,  wholly  at  sea  and 
•surprised  at  the  look  of  corroboration  in  Nina's  eyes. 

"  Yes,  Johnson,"  went  on  Ranee,  insistently. 
Why  had  he  not  seen  at  once  that  it  was  Johnson 
who  was  the  road  agent!  There  could  be  no  mis- 
take !  "  You  weren't  there,"  he  explained  hur- 
riedly, "  when  he  came  in  and  began  flirting  with  the 
Girl  and  — " 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      177 

"  Ramerrez  making  love  to  the  Girl?"  broke  in 
Ashby.  "Ye  Gods!" 

"The  Girl?  So  that's  the  woman  he's  after 
now !  "  Nina  laughed  bitterly.  "  Well,  she's  not 
destined  to  have  him  for  long,  I  can  tell  you !  " 
And  with  that  she  reached  out  for  the  bottle  on  the 
table  and  poured  herself  a  small  glass  of  whisky  and 
swallowed  it.  When  she  turned  her  lips  were 
tightly  shut  over  her  brilliant  teeth,  a  thousand 
thoughts  came  rushing  into  her  brain.  There  was 
no  longer  any  compunction  —  she  would  strike  now 
and  deep.  Through  her  efforts  alone  the  man  would 
be  captured,  and  she  gloried  in  the  thought. 

"  Here  —  here  is  something  that  will  interest 
you!  "  she  said;  and  putting  her  hand  in  her  bosom 
drew  out  a  soiled,  faded  photograph.  "  There  — 
that  will  settle  him  for  good  and  all !  Never  again 
will  he  boast  of  trifling  with  Nina  Micheltorena  — 
with  me,  a  Micheltorena  in  whose  veins  runs  the 
best  and  proudest  blood  of  California !  " 

Ashby  fairly  snatched  the  photograph  out  of  her 
hand  and,  after  one  look  at  it,  passed  it  over  to  the 
Sheriff. 

"  Good  of  him,  isn't  it?  "  sneered  Nina;  and  ther. 
seemingly  trying  by  her  very  vehemence  to  impress 
upon  herself  the  impossibility  of  his  ever  being  any- 
thing but  an  episode  in  her  life,  she  added:  "I 
hate  him !  " 


178     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

The  picture  was  indeed  an  excellent  one.  It  rep- 
resented Ramerrez  in  the  gorgeous  dress  of  a  cabal- 
lero  —  and  the  outlaw  was  a  fine  specimen  of  that 
spectacular  class  of  men.  But  Ranee  studied  the 
photograph  only  long  enough  to  be  sure  that  no  mis- 
take was  possible.  With  a  quick  movement  he  put 
it  away  in  his  pocket  and  looked  long  and  hard  at  the 
figure  of  the  degraded  woman  standing  before  him 
and  revelling  in  her  treachery.  In  that  time  he  for- 
got that  anyone  had  ever  entertained  a  kind  thought 
about  her;  he  forgot  that  she  once  was  respected  as 
well  as  admired;  he  was  conscious  only  of  regarding 
her  with  a  far  deeper  disgust  and  repugnance  than  he 
held  towards  others  much  her  inferior  in  birth  and 
education.  But,  presently,  his  face  grew  a  shade 
whiter,  if  that  were  possible,  and  he  cursed  himself 
for  not  having  thought  of  the  danger  to  which  the 
Girl  might  even  now  be  exposed.  In  less  than  a 
minute,  therefore,  both  men  stood  ready  for  the  work 
before  them.  But  on  the  threshold  just  before  go- 
ing out  into  the  fierce  storm  that  had  burst  during 
the  last  few  minutes,  he  paused  and  called  back: 

"  You  Mexican  devil!  If  any  harm  comes  to  the 
Girl,  I'll  strangle  you  with  my  own  hands!  "  And 
not  waiting  to  hear  the  woman's  mocking  laughter  he 
passed  out,  followed  by  Ashby,  into  the  storm. 


X 

IN  the  still  black  night  and  with  no  guide  other  than 
the  dimly-lighted  lantern  which  she  carried,  the  Girl 
had  started  for  home  —  a  bit  of  shelter  in  the 
middle  of  a  great  silence,  a  little  fortress  in  the 
wilderness,  as  it  were,  with  its  barred  doors  and 
windows  —  on  the  top  of  Cloudy  Mountain.  To 
be  sure,  it  was  not  the  first  time  that  she  had  fol- 
lowed the  trail  alone:  Day  and  night,  night  and 
day,  for  as  long,  almost,  as  she  could  remember,  she 
had  been  doing  it;  indeed,  she  had  watched  the 
alders,  oaks  and  dwarf  pines,  that  bordered  the  trail, 
grow  year  by  year  as  she  herself  had  grown,  until 
now  the  whispering  of  the  mountain's  night  winds 
spoke  a  language  as  familiar  as  her  own;  but  never 
before  had  she  climbed  up  into  the  clean,  wide,  free 
sweep  of  this  unbounded  horizon,  the  very  air  un- 
tainted and  limitless  as  the  sky  itself,  with  so  keen 
and  uncloying  a  pleasure.  But  there  was  a  new 
significance  attached  to  her  home-coming  to-night: 
was  she  not  to  entertain  there  her  first  real  visitor? 
At  the  threshold  of  her  cabin  the  Girl,  her  cheeks 
aglow  and  eyes  as  bright,  almost,  as  the  red  cape 
that  enveloped  her  lithe,  girlish  figure,  paused,  and 
swinging  her  lantern  high  above  her  head  so  that  its 
light  was  reflected  in  the  room,  she  endeavoured  to 
179 


i8o     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

imagine  what  would  be  the  impression  that  a 
stranger  would  receive  coming  suddenly  upon  these 
surroundings. 

And  well  might  she  have  paused,  for  no  eye  ever 
rested  upon  a  more  conglomerate  ensemble!  Yet, 
withal,  there  was  a  certain  attractiveness  about  this 
log-built,  low,  square  room,  half-papered  with  gaudy 
paper  —  the  supply,  evidently,  having  fallen  short, 
—  that  was  as  unexpected  as  it  was  unusual. 

Upon  the  floor,  which  had  a  covering  of  corn 
sacks,  were  many  beautiful  bear  and  wolf  skins, 
Indian  rugs  and  Navajo  blankets;  while  overhead  — 
screening  some  old  trunks  and  boxes  neatly  piled  up 
high  in  the  loft,  which  was  reached  by  a  ladder, 
generally  swung  out  of  the  way  —  hung  a  faded, 
woollen  blanket;  from  the  opposite  corner  there 
fell  an  old,  patchwork,  silk  quilt.  Dainty  white 
curtains  in  all  their  crispness  were  at  the  windows, 
and  upon  the  walls  were  many  rare  and  weird  tro- 
phies of  the  chase,  not  to  mention  the  innumerable 
pictures  that  had  been  taken  from  "  Godey's  Lady 
Book  "  and  other  periodicals  of  that  time.  A  little 
book-shelf,  that  had  been  fashioned  out  of  a  box, 
was  filled  with  old  and  well-read  books;  while  the 
mantel  that  guarded  the  fireplace  was  ornamented 
with  various  small  articles,  conspicuous  among  which 
were  a  clock  that  beat  loud,  automatic  time  with  a 
brassy  resonance,  a  china  dog  and  cat  of  most  gaudy 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      181 

colours,  a  whisky  bottle  and  two  tumblers,  and  some 
winter  berries  in  a  jar. 

There  were  two  pieces  of  furniture  in  the  room, 
however,  which  were  placed  with  an  eye  to  attract 
attention,  and  these  the  Girl  prized  most  highly: 
one  was  a  homemade  rocking-chair  that  had  been 
made  out  of  a  barrel  and  had  been  dyed,  unsuccess- 
fully, with  indigo  blue,  and  had  across  its  back  a 
knitted  tidy  with  a  large,  upstanding,  satin  bow;  the 
other  was  a  homemade,  pine  wardrobe  that  had  been 
rudely  decorated  by  one  of  the  boys  of  the  camp 
and  in  which  the  Girl  kept  her  dresses,  and  was  piled 
up  high  towards  the  ceiling  with  souvenirs  of  her 
trip  to  Monterey,  including  the  hat-boxes  and  wicker 
basket  that  had  come  well  nigh  to  loading  down  the 
stage  on  that  memorable  journey. 

But  it  was  upon  her  bed  and  bedroom  fixings 
that  the  greatest  attempt  at  decoration  had  been 
made;  partitioning  off  the  room,  as  it  were,  and  at 
the  same  time  forming  a  canopy  about  the  bed,  were 
curtains  of  cheap,  gaudy  material,  through  the  part- 
ings of  which  there  was  to  be  had  a  glimpse  of  a 
daintily-made-up  bed,  whose  pillows  were  made  con- 
spicuous by  the  hand-made  lace  that  trimmed  their 
slips,  as  was  the  bureau-cover,  and  upon  which,  in 
charming  disarray,  were  various  articles  generally 
included  in  a  woman's  toilet,  not  to  mention  the 
numberless  strings  of  coloured  beads  and  other  bits 


1 82      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

of  feminine  adornment.  A  table  standing  in  the 
centre  of  the  room  was  covered  with  a  small,  white 
cloth,  while  falling  in  folds  from  beneath  this  was 
a  faded,  red  cotton  cover.  The  table  was  laid  for 
one,  the  charlotte  "  rusks  "  and  "  lemming  "  turn- 
over —  each  on  a  separate  plate  —  which  Nick  had 
been  commissioned  to  procure,  earlier  in  the  even- 
ing, from  the  Palmetto  restaurant,  looming  up  prom- 
inently in  the  centre;  and  on  another  plate  were  some 
chipped  beef  and  biscuits.  A  large  lamp  was  sus- 
pended from  the  ceiling  in  the  centre  of  the  room 
and  was  quaintly,  if  not  grotesquely,  shaded;  while 
other  lamps  flanked  by  composition  metal  reflectors 
concentrated  light  upon  the  Girl's  bureau,  the  book- 
shelf and  mantel,  leaving  the  remainder  of  the  room 
in  variant  shadow. 

All  in  all,  what  with  the  fire  that  was  burning 
cheerily  in  the  grate  and  the  strong  odour  of  steam- 
ing coffee,  the  room  had  a  soft  glow  and  home- 
like air  that  was  most  inviting. 

In  that  brief  moment  that  the  Girl  stood  in  the 
doorway  reviewing  her  possessions,  a  multitude  of 
expressions  drifted  across  her  countenance,  a  multi- 
tude of  possibilities  thrilled  within  her  bosom.  But 
however  much  she  would  have  liked  to  analyse  these 
strange  feelings,  she  resisted  the  inclination  and  gave 
all  her  attention  to  the  amusing  scene  that  was  being 
enacted  before  her  eyes. 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      183 

For  some  time  Billy  Jackrabbit  had  been  standing 
by  the  table  looking  greedily  down  upon  the  char- 
lotte russes  there.  He  was  on  the  point  of  putting 
his  finger  through  the  centre  of  one  of  them  when 
Wowkle  —  the  Indian  woman-of-all-work  of  the 
cabin,  who  sat  upon  the  floor  before  the  fire  sing- 
ing a  lullaby  to  the  papoose  strapped  to  its  cradle 
on  her  back  —  turning  suddenly  her  gaze  in  his 
direction,  was  just  in  time  to  prevent  him. 

"Charlotte  rusk  —  Palmetto  rest'rant  —  not 
take,"  were  her  warning  words. 

Jackrabbit  drew  himself  up  quickly,  but  he  was 
furious  at  interference  from  a  source  where  it  was 
wholly  unexpected. 

"  Hm  —  me  honest,"  he  growled  fiercely,  flash- 
ing her  a  malignant  look. 

"  Huh?  "  was  Wowkle's" monosyllabic  observation 
delivered  in  a  guttural  tone. 

All  of  a  sudden,  Jackrabbit's  gaze  was  arrested  by 
a  piece  of  paper  which  lay  upon  the  floor  and  in 
which  had  been  wrapped  the  charlotte  russes ;  he  went 
over  to  it  quickly,  picked  it  up,  opened  it  and  pro- 
ceeded to  collect  on  his  finger  the  cream  that  had 
adhered  to  it. 

"  Huh !  "  he  growled  delightedly,  holding  up  his 
finger  for  Wowkle's  inspection.  The  next  instant, 
however,  he  slumped  down  beside  her  upon  the  floor, 
where  both  the  man  and  the  woman  sat  in  silence 


1 84     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

gazing  into  the  fire.  The  man  was  the  first  to 
speak. 

"  Send  me  up  —  Polka.  Say,  p'haps  me  marry 
you  —  huh?  "  he  said,  coming  to  the  point  bluntly. 

Wowkle's  eyes  were  glued  to  the  fire ;  she  answered 
dully: 

"Me  don't  know." 

There  was  a  silence,  and  then: 

"  Me  don't  know,"  observed  Jackrabbit  thought- 
fully. A  moment  later,  however,  he  added:  "  Me 
marry  you  —  how  much  me  get  give  fatha  —  huh  ?  " 

Wowkle  raised  her  narrowing  eyes  to  his  and 
told  him  with  absolute  indifference : 

"  Huh  —  me  don't  know." 

Jackrabbit's  face  darkened.  He  pondered  for  a 
long  time. 

"Me  don't  know  — "  suddenly  he  began  and  then 
stopped.  They  had  been  silent  for  some  moments, 
when  at  last  he  ventured:  "  Me  give  fatha  four 
dolla  " —  and  here  he  indicated  the  number  with  his 
two  hands,  the  finger  with  the  cream  locking  those 
of  the  other  hand  — "  and  one  blanket." 

Wowkle's  eyes  dilated. 

"  Better  keep  blanket  —  baby  cold,"  was  her 
ambiguous  answer. 

Whereupon  Jackrabbit  emitted  a  low  growl. 
Presently  he  handed  nereis  pipe,  and  while  she 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      185 

puffed  steadily  away  he  fondled  caressingly  the  string 
of  beads  which  she  wore  around  her  neck. 

"You  sing  for  get  those?"  he  asked. 

"  Me  sing,"  she  replied  dully,  beginning  almost 
instantly  in  soft,  nasal  tones : 

"  My  days  are  as  urn  grass  " — 

Jackrabbit's  face  cleared. 
"  Huh !  "  he  growled  in  rejoicement. 
Immediately  Wowkle  edged  up  close  to  him  and 
together  they  continued  in  chorus : 

"  Or  as  urn  faded  flo'r, 
Um  wintry  winds  sweep  o'er  um  plain, 
We  pe'ish  in  um  ho'r." 

"  But  Gar,"  said  the  man  when  the  song  was 
ended,  at  the  same  time  taking  his  pipe  away  from 
her,  "  to-morrow  we  go  missionary  —  sing  like  hell 
—  get  whisky." 

But  as  Wowkle  made  no  answer,  once  more  a 
silence  fell  upon  them. 

"  We  pe'ish  in  um  ho'r,"  suddenly  repeated  Jack- 
rabbit,  half-singing,  half-speaking  the  words,  and 
rising  quickly  started  for  the  door.  At  the  table, 
however,  he  halted  and  inquired:  "All  right  — 
go  missionary  to-morrow  —  get  marry  —  huh?  " 


1 86     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

Wowkle  hesitated,  then  rose,  and  finally  started 
slowly  towards  him.  Half-way  over  she  stopped 
and  reminded  him  in  a  most  apathetic  manner : 

"  P'haps  me  not  stay  marry  to  you  for  long." 

"Huh  —  seven  monse?"  queried  Jackrabbit  in 
the  same  tone. 

"  Six  monse,"  came  laconically  from  the  woman. 

In  nowise  disconcerted  by  her  answer,  the  Indian 
now  asked: 

"  You  come  soon?  " 

Wowkle  thought  a  moment;  then  suddenly  edg- 
ing up  close  to  him  she  promised  to  come  to  him 
after  the  Girl  had  had  her  supper. 

"  Huh !  "  fairly  roared  the  Indian,  his  coal-black 
eyes  glowing  as  he  looked  at  her. 

It  was  at  this  juncture  that  the  Girl,  after  hang- 
ing up  her  lantern  on  a  peg  on  the  outer  door,  broke 
in  unexpectedly  upon  the  strange  pair  of  lovers. 

Dumbfounded,  the  woman  and  the  man  stood  gap- 
ing at  her.  Wowkle  was  the  first  to  regain  her  com- 
posure, and  bending  over  the  table  she  turned  up 
the  light. 

"Hello,  Billy  Jackrabbit!"  greeted  the  Girl, 
breezily.  "Fixed  it?" 

"  Me  fix,"  he  grunted. 

"  That's  good  1  Now  git !  "  ordered  the  Girl  in 
the  same  happy  tone  that  had  characterised  her  greet- 
ing. 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      187 

Slowly,  stealthily,  Jackrabbit  left  the  cabin,  the 
two  women,  though  for  different  reasons,  watching 
him  go  until  the  door  had  closed  behind  him. 

"  Now,  Wowkle,"  said  the  Girl,  turning  to  her 
with  a  smile,  "  it's  for  two  to-night." 

Wowkle's  eyelashes  twinkled  up  inquisitorially. 

"Huh?" 

"  Yep." 

Wowkle's  eyes  narrowed  to  pin-points. 

"Come  anotha?  Never  before  come  anotha," 
was  her  significant  comment. 

"  Never  you  mind."  The  Girl  voiced  the  repri- 
mand without  the  twitching  of  an  eyelid;  and  then 
as  she  hung  up  her  cape  upon  the  wardrobe,  she 
added :  "  Pick  up  the  room,  Wowkle !  " 

The  big-hipped,  full-bosomed  woman  did  not  move 
but  stood  in  all  her  stolidness  gazing  at  her  mistress 
like  one  in  a  dream ;  whereupon  the  Girl,  exasperated 
beyond  measure  at  the  other's  placidity,  rushed  over 
to  her  and  shook  her  so  violently  that  she  finally 
awakened  to  the  importance  of  her  mistress'  request. 

"  He's  comin'  now,  now;  he's  comin' !  "  the  Girl 
was  saying,  when  suddenly  her  eyes  were  attracted 
to  a  pair  of  stockings  hanging  upon  the  wall;  quickly 
she  released  her  hold  on  the  woman  and  with  a  hop, 
skip  and  a  jump  they  were  down  and  hid  away  in  her 
bureau  drawer. 

"  My    roses  —  what    did    you    do    with    them, 


i88      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

Wowkle?"  she  asked  a  trifle  impatiently  as  she 
fumbled  in  the  drawer. 

"  Ugh !  "  grunted  Wowkle,  and  pointed  to  a  cor- 
ner of  the  bureau  top. 

"  Good  I  "  cried  the  Girl,  delightedly,  as  she  spied 
them.  The  next  instant  she  was  busily  engaged  in 
arranging  them  in  her  hair,  pausing  only  to  take  a 
pistol  out  of  her  pocket,  which  she  laid  on  the  edge 
of  the  bureau.  "  No  offence,  Wowkle,"  she  went 
on  thoughtfully,  a  moment  later,  "  but  I  want  you  to 
put  your  best  foot  forward  when  you're  waitin'  on 
table  to-night.  This  here  company  o'  mine's  a  man 
o'  idees.  Oh,  he  knows  everythin' !  Sort  of  a 
damme  style." 

Wowkle  gave  no  sign  of  having  heard  her  mis- 
tress' words,  but  kept  right  on  tidying  the  room. 
Now  she  went  over  to  the  cupboard  and  took  down 
two  cups,  which  she  placed  on  the  fireplace  base. 
It  was  while  she  was  in  the  act  of  laying  down  the 
last  one  that  the  Girl  broke  in  suddenly  upon  her 
thoughts  with: 

"Say,  Wowkle,  did  Billy  Jackrabbit  really  pro- 
pose to  you?  " 

"  Yep  —  get  marry,"  spoke  up  Jackrabbit's 
promised  wife  without  looking  up. 

For  some  moments  the  Girl  continued  to  fumble 
among  her  possessions  in  the  bureau  drawer ;  at  last 
she  brought  forth  an  orange-coloured  satin  ribbon, 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      189 

which  she  placed  in  the  Indian  woman's  hands  with 
her  prettiest  smile,  saying : 

"  Here,  Wowkle,  you  can  have  that  to  fix  up 
for  the  weddin'." 

Wowkle's  eyes  glowed  with  appreciation. 

"Huh!"  she  ejaculated,  and  proceeded  to  wind 
the  ribbon  about  the  beads  around  her  neck. 

Turning  once  more  to  the  bureau,  the  Girl  took 
out  a  small  parcel  done  up  in  tissue  paper  and  be- 
gan to  unwrap  it. 

"  I'm  goin'  to  put  on  them,  if  I  can  git  'em  on," 
she  said,  displaying  a  pair  of  white  satin  slippers. 
The  next  instant  she  had  plumped  herself  down  upon 
the  floor  and  was  trying  to  encase  her  feet  in  a  pair 
of  slippers  which  were  much  too  small  for  them. 
"  Remember  what  fun  I  made  o'  you  when  you  took 
up  with  Billy  Jackrabbit?  "  suddenly  she  asked  with 
a  happy  little  smile.  "What  for?  sez  I.  Well, 
p'r'aps  you  was  right.  P'r'aps  it's  nice  to  have  some- 
one you  really  care  for  —  who  belongs  to  you. 
P'r'aps  they  ain't  so  much  in  the  saloon  business  for 
a  woman  after  all,  and  you  don't  know  what  Jivin' 
really  is  until  — "  She  stopped  abruptly  and  threw 
upon  the  floor  the  slipper  that  refused  to  give  to  her 
foot.  "  Oh,  Wowkle,"  she  went  on,  taking  up  the 
other  slipper,  "  it's  nice  to  have  someone  you  can 
talk  to,  someone  you  can  turn  your  heart  inside  out 
to." 


190     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

At  last  she  had  succeeded  in  getting  into  one 
slipper  and,  rising,  tried  to  stand  in  it;  but  it  hurt 
her  so  frightfully  that  she  immediately  sank  down 
upon  the  floor  and  proceeded  to  pat  and  rub  and 
coddle  her  foot  to  ease  the  pain.  It  was  while  she 
was  thus  engaged  that  a  knock  came  upon  her  cabin 
door. 

"  Oh,  Lord,  here  he  is  1 "  she  cried,  panic- 
stricken,  and  began  to  drag  herself  hurriedly  across 
the  room  with  the  intention  of  concealing  herself 
behind  the  curtain  at  the  foot  of  the  bed;  while 
Wowkle,  with  unusual  celerity,  made  for  the  fire- 
place, where  she  stood  with  her  back  to  the  door, 
gazing  into  the  nre. 

The  Girl  had  only  gotten  half-way  across  the 
room,  however,  when  a  voice  assailed  her  ears. 

"  Miss,  Miss,  kin  I  — "  came  in  low,  subdued 
tones. 

"What?  The  Sidney  Duck?"  she  cried,  turn- 
ing and  seeing  his  head  poked  through  the  window. 

"  Beg  pardon,  Miss ;  I  know  men  ain't  lowed  up 
here  nohow,"  humbly  apologised  that  individual; 
"but,  but— " 

Vexed  and  flustered,  the  Girl  turned  upon  him 
a  trifle  irritably  with: 

"Git!     Git,  I  tell  you!" 

"  But  I'm  in  grite  trouble,  Miss,"  began  The 
Sidney  Duck,  tearfully.  "  The  boys  are  back  — 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      191 

they  missed  that  road  agent  Ramerrez  and  now 
they're  taking  it  out  of  me.  If  —  if  you'd  only 
speak  a  word  for  me,  Miss." 

"  No  — "  began  the  Girl,  and  stopped.  The 
next  instant  she  ordered  Wowkle  to  shut  the 
window. 

"  Oh,  don't  be  'ard  on  me,  Miss,"  whimpered  the 
man. 

The  Girl  flashed  him  a  scornful  look. 

"  Now,  look  here,  Sidney  Duck,  there's  one  kind 
o'  man  I  can't  stand,  an'  that's  a  cheat  an'  a  thief, 
an'  you're  it,"  said  the  Girl,  laying  great  stress  upon 
her  words.  "  You're  no  better'n  that  road  agent 
Ramerrez,  an' — " 

"  But,  Miss  — "  interrupted  the  man. 

"  Miss  nothin' !  "  snapped  back  the  Girl,  tugging 
away  at  the  slippers;  in  desperation  once  more  she 
ordered : 

"  Wowkle,  close  the  winder !     Close  the  winder !  " 

The  Sidney  Duck  glowered  at  her.  He  had  ex- 
pected her  intercession  on  his  behalf  and  could  not 
understand  this  new  attitude  of  hers  toward  him. 

"Public  'ouse  jide!"  he  retorted  furiously,  and 
slammed  the  window. 

"  Ugh  I  "  snarled  Wowkle,  resentfully,  her  eyes 
full  of  fire. 

Now  at  any  other  time,  The  Sidney  Duck  would 
have  been  made  to  pay  dearly  for  his  words,  but 


192      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

either  the  Girl  did  not  hear  him,  or  if  she  did  she 
was  too  engrossed  to  heed  them;  at  any  rate,  the 
remark  passed  unnoticed. 

"  I  got  it  on  1  "  presently  exclaimed  the  Girl  in 
great  joy.  Nevertheless,  it  was  not  without  several 
ouches  and  moans  that,  finally,  she  stood  upon  her 
feet.  "  Say,  Wowkle,  how  do  you  think  he'll  like 
'em?  How  do  they  look?  They  feel  awful!  "  she 
rattled  on  with  a  pained  look  on  her  face. 

But  whatever  would  have  been  the  Indian  woman's 
observation  on  the  subject  of  tight  shoes  in  general 
and  those  of  her  mistress  in  particular,  she  was  not 
permitted  to  make  it,  for  the  Girl,  now  hobbling  over 
towards  the  bureau,  went  on  to  announce  with  sudden 
determination : 

"Say,  Wowkle,  I'm  a-goin'  the  whole  hog! 
Yes,  I'm  a-goin'  the  whole  hog,"  she  repeated  a 
moment  later,  as  she  drew  forth  various  bits  of  finery 
from  a  chest  of  drawers,  with  which  she  pro- 
ceeded to  adorn  herself  before  the  mirror.  Tak- 
ing out  first  a  lace  shawl  of  bold  design,  she  drew 
it  over  her  shoulders  with  the  grace  and  ease  of  one 
who  makes  it  an  everyday  affair  rather  than  an 
occasional  undertaking;  then  she  took  from  a  sweet- 
grass  basket  a  vividly-embroidered  handkerchief  and 
saturated  it  with  cologne,  impregnating  the  whole 
room  with  its  strong  odour;  finally  she  brought  forth 
a  pair  of  long,  white  gloves  and  began  to  stretch 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      193 

them  on.  "  Does  it  look  like  an  effort,  Wowkle?  " 
she  asked,  trying  to  get  her  hands  into  them. 

"  Ugh !  "  was  the  Indian  woman's  comment  at 
the  very  moment  that  a  knock  came  upon  the  door. 
"  Two  plates,"  she  added  with  a  groan,  and  started 
for  the  cupboard. 

Meanwhile  the  Girl  continued  with  her  primping 
and  preening,  her  hands  flying  back  and  forth  like  an 
automaton  from  her  waist-line  to  her  stockings. 
Suddenly  another  knock,  this  time  more  vigorous, 
more  insistent,  came  upon  the  rough  boards  of  the 
cabin  door,  which,  finally,  was  answered  by  the  Girl 
herself. 


XI 

"  HELLO  !  "  sang  out  Johnson,  genially,  as  he  en- 
tered the  Girl's  cabin. 

At  once  the  Girl's  audacity  and  spirit  deserted 
her,  and  hanging  her  head  she  answered  meekly, 
bashfully : 

"Hello!" 

The  man's  eyes  swept  the  Girl's  figure ;  he  looked 
puzzled,  and  asked : 

"  Are  you  —  you  going  out?  " 

The  Girl  was  plainly  embarrassed ;  she  stammered 
in  reply: 

"  Yes  —  no  —  I  don't  know  —  Oh,  come  on  in !  " 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Johnson  in  his  best  manner, 
and  put  down  his  lantern  on  the  table.  Turning 
now  with  a  look  of  admiration  in  his  eyes,  at  the 
same  time  trying  to  embrace  her,  he  went  on :  "  Oh, 
Girl,  I'm  so  glad  you  let  me  come.  .  .  ." 

His  glance,  his  tone,  his  familiarity  sent  the  colour 
flying  to  the  Girl's  cheeks;  she  flared  up  instantly, 
her  blue  eyes  snapping  with  resentment : 

"  You  stop  where  you  are,  Mr.  Johnson." 

"  Ugh !  "  came  from  Wowkle,  at  that  moment 
closing  the  door  which  Johnson  had  left  ajar. 

At  the  sound  of  the  woman's  voice  Johnson  wheeled 
round  quickly.  And  then,  to  his  great  surprise,  he 
194 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      195 

saw  that  the  Girl  was  not  alone  as  he  had  expected 
to  find  her. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon ;  I  did  not  see  anyone  when 
I  came  in,"  he  said  in  humble  apology,  his  eyes  the 
while  upon  Wowkle  who,  having  blown  out  the 
candle  and  removed  the  lantern  from  the  table  to 
the  floor,  was  directing  her  footsteps  towards  the 
cupboard,  into  which  she  presently  disappeared, 
closing  the  door  behind  her.  "  But  seeing  you  stand- 
ing there,"  went  on  Johnson  in  explanation,  "  and 
looking  into  your  lovely  eyes,  well,  the  temptation 
to  take  you  in  my  arms  was  so  great  that  I,  well, 
I  took  — " 

"  You  must  be  in  the  habit  o'  takin'  things,  Mr. 
Johnson,"  broke  in  the  Girl.  "  I  seen  you  on  the 
road  to  Monterey,  goin'  an'  comin',  an'  passed  a  few 
words  with  you ;  I  seen  you  once  since,  but  that  don't 
give  you  no  excuse  to  begin  this  sort  o'  game."  The 
Girl's  tone  was  one  of  reproach  rather  than  of  an- 
noyance, and  for  the  moment  the  young  man  was  left 
with  a  sense  of  having  committed  an  indiscretion. 
Silently,  sheepishly,  he  moved  away,  while  she  quietly 
went  over  to  the  fire. 

"  Besides,  you  might  have  prospected  a  bit  first 
anyway,"  presently  she  went  on,  watching  the  tips 
of  her  slender  white  fingers  held  out  transparent 
towards  the  fire. 

Just  at  that  moment  a  log  dropped,  turning  up  its 


196     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

glowing  underside.  Wheeling  round  with  a  smile, 
Johnson  said : 

"  I  see  how  wrong  I  was." 

And  then,  seeing  that  the  Girl  made  no  move  in 
his  direction,  he  asked,  still  smiling: 

"May  I  take  off  my  coat?" 

The  Girl  remained  silent,  which  silence  he  in- 
terpreted as  an  assent,  and  went  on  to  make  himself 
at  home. 

"  Thank  you,"  he  said  simply.  "  What  a  bully 
little  place  you  have  here  I  It's  awfully  snug!  "  he 
continued  delightedly,  as  his  eyes  wandered  about  the 
room.  "  And  to  think  that  I've  found  you  again 
.when  I  —  Oh,  the  luck  of  it!  " 

He  went  over  to  her  and  held  out  his  hands, 
a  broad,  yet  kindly  smile  lighting  up  his  strong 
features,  making  him  appear  handsomer,  even, 
than  he  really  was,  to  the  Girl  taking  in  the 
olive-coloured  skin  glowing  with  healthful  pal- 
lor. 

"Friends?"  he  asked. 

Nevertheless  the  girl  did  not  give  him  her  hand, 
but  quickly  drew  it  away;  she  answered  his  question 
with  a  question: 

"  Are  you  sorry?  " 

"  No,  I'm  not  sorry." 

To  this  she  made  no  reply  but  quietly,  disappoint- 
edly returned  to  the  fireplace,  where  she  stood  in 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      197 

contemplative  silence,  waiting  for  his  next  words. 

But  he  did  not  speak;  he  contented  himself  with 
gazing  at  the  tender  girlishness  of  her,  the  blue- 
black  eyes,  and  flesh  that  was  so  bright  and  pure 
that  he  knew  it  to  be  soft  and  firm,  making  him 
yearn  for  her. 

Involuntarily  she  turned  towards  him,  and  she 
saw  that  in  his  face  which  caused  her  eyes  to  drop 
and  her  breath  to  come  more  quickly. 

"  That  damme  style  just  catches  a  woman !  "  she 
ejaculated  with  a  little  tremour  in  her  voice. 

Then  her  mood  underwent  a  sudden  change  in 
marked  contrast  to  that  of  the  moment  before. 
"  Look  here,  Mr.  Johnson,"  she  said,  "  down  at 
the  saloon  to-night  you  said  you  always  got  what  you 
wanted.  O'  course  I've  got  to  admire  you  for  that. 
I  reckon  women  always  do  admire  men  for  gettin' 
what  they  want.  But  if  huggin'  me's  included,  jest 
count  it  out." 

For  a  breathing  space  there  was  a  dead  silence. 

"  That  was  a  lovely  day,  Girl,  on  the  road  to 
Monterey,  wasn't  it?"  of  a  sudden  Johnson  ob- 
served dreamily. 

The  Girl's  eyes  opened  upon  him  wonderingly. 

"Was  it?" 

"Well,  wasn't  it?" 

The  Girl  thought  it  was  and  she  laughed. 

"  Say,  take  a  chair  and  set  down  for  a  while,  won't 


198      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

you?"  was  her  next  remark,  she  herself  taking  a 
chair  at  the  table. 

"  Thanks,"  he  said,  coming  slowly  towards  her 
while  his  eyes  wandered  about  the  room  for  a  chair. 

"Say,  look  'ere!"  she  shot  out,  scrutinising  him 
closely;  "  I  ben  thinkin'  you  didn't  come  to  the 
saloon  to  see  me  to-night.  What  brought  you?  " 

"  It  was  Fate,"  he  told  her,  leaning  over  the  table 
and  looking  down  upon  her  admiringly. 

She  pondered  his  answer  for  a  moment,  then 
blurted  out: 

"  You're  a  bluff !  It  may  have  been  Fate,  but 
I  tho't  you  looked  kind  o'  funny  when  Ranee  asked 
you  if  you  hadn't  missed  the  trail  an'  wa'n't  on  the 
road  to  see  Nina  Micheltorefia  —  she  that  lives  in 
the  greaser  settlement  an'  has  the  name  o'  shelterin' 
thieves." 

At  the  mention  of  thieves,  Johnson  paled  fright- 
fully and  the  knife  which  he  had  been  toying  with 
dropped  to  the  floor. 

"Was  it  Fate  or  the  back  trail?"  again  queried 
the  Girl. 

"  It  was  Fate,"  calmly  reiterated  the  man,  and 
looked  her  fairly  in  the  eye. 

The  cloud  disappeared  from  the  Girl's  face. 

"  Serve  the  coffee,  Wowkle !  "  she  called  almost 
instantly.  And  then  it  was  that  she  saw  that  no  chair 
had  been  placed  at  the  table  for  him.  She  sprang 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      199 

to  her  feet,  exclaiming :  "  Oh,  Lordy,  you  ain't 
got  no  chair  yet  to  — " 

"  Careful,  please,  careful,"  quickly  warned  John- 
son, as  she  rounded  the  corner  of  the  table  upon  which 
his  guns  lay. 

But  fear  was  not  one  of  the  Girl's  emotions.  At 
the  display  of  guns  that  met  her  gaze  she  merely 
shrugged  and  inquired  placidly: 

"  Oh,  how  many  guns  do  you  carry?  " 

Not  unnaturally  she  waited  for  his  answer  before 
starting  in  quest  of  a  chair  for  him;  but  instead 
Johnson  quietly  went  over  to  the  chair  near  the  door 
where  his  coat  lay,  hung  it  up  on  the  peg  with  his 
hat,  and  returning  now  with  a  chair,  he  answered : 

"  Oh,  several  when  travelling  through  the  coun- 
try." 

"  Well,  set  down,"  said  the  Girl  bluntly,  and  hur- 
ried to  his  side  to  adjust  his  chair.  But  she  did  not 
return  to  her  place  at  the  table;  instead,  she  took  the 
barrel  rocker  near  the  fireplace  and  began  to  rock 
nervously  to  and  fro.  In  silence  Johnson  sat  study- 
ing her,  looking  her  through  and  through,  as  it  were. 

"  It  must  be  strange  living  all  alone  way  up  here 
in  the  mountains,"  he  remarked,  breaking  the  spell 
of  silence.  "  Isn't  it  lonely?  " 

"  Lonely?  Mountains  lonely? "  The  Girl's 
laugh  rang  out  clearly.  "  Besides,"  she  went  on, 
her  eyes  fairly  dancing  with  excitement,  "  I  got  a 


200     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

little  pinto  an'  I'm  all  over  the  country  on  'im. 
Finest  little  horse  you  ever  saw!  If  I  want  to  I 
can  ride  right  down  into  the  summer  at  the  foothills 
with  miles  o'  Injun  pinks  jest  a-laffin'  an'  tiger  lilies 
as  mad  as  blazes.  There's  a  river  there,  too  —  the 
Injuns  call  it  a  water-road  —  an'  I  can  git  on  that  an' 
drift  an'  drift  an'  smell  the  wild  syringa  on  the  banks. 
An  if  I  git  tired  o'  that  I  can  turn  my  horse  up-grade 
an'  gallop  right  into  the  winter  an'  the  lonely  pines 
an'  firs  a-whisperin'  an'  a-sighin.'  Lonely?  Moun- 
tains lonely,  did  you  say?  Oh,  my  mountains,  my 
beautiful  peaks,  my  Sierras!  God's  in  the  air  here, 
sure!  You  can  see  Him  layin'  peaceful  hands  on 
the  mountain  tops.  He  seems  so  near  you  want  to 
let  your  soul  go  right  on  up." 

Johnson  was  touched  at  the  depth  of  meaning  in 
her  words;  he  nodded  his  head  in  appreciation. 

"  I  see,  when  you  die  you  won't  have  far  to  go," 
he  quietly  observed. 

Minutes  passed  before  either  spoke.  Then  all  at 
once  the  Girl  rose  and  took  the  chair  facing  his,  the 
table  between  them  as  at  first. 

"  Wowkle,  serve  the  coffee !  "  again  she  called. 

Immediately,  Wowkle  emerged  from  the  cup- 
board, took  the  coffee-pot  from  the  fire  and  filled  the 
cups  that  had  been  kept  warm  on  the  fireplace  base, 
and  after  placing  a  cup  beside  each  plate  she  squatted 
down  before  the  fire  in  watchful  silence. 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      201 

"  But  when  it's  very  cold  up  here,  cold,  and  it 
snows?"  queried  Johnson,  his  admiration  for  the 
plucky,  quaint  little  figure  before  him  growing  by 
leaps  and  bounds. 

"  Oh,  the  boys  come  up  an'  digs  me  out  o'  my  front 
door  like  —  like — "  She  paused,  her  sunny  laugh 
rippling  out  at  the  recollection  of  it  all,  and  John- 
son noted  the  two  delightful  dimples  in  her  rounded 
cheeks.  Indeed,  she  had  never  appeared  prettier  to 
him  than  when  displaying  her  two  rows  of  perfect, 
dazzling  teeth,  which  was  the  case  every  time  that 
she  laughed. 

" — like  a  little  rabbit,  eh?"  he  supplemented, 
joining  in  the  laugh. 

She  nodded  eagerly. 

"  I  get  digged  out  near  every  day  when  the  mine's 
shet  down  an'  Academy  opens,"  went  on  the  Girl  in 
the  same  happy  strain,  her  big  blue  eyes  dancing 
with  merriment. 

Johnson  looked  at  her  wonderingly;  he  questioned. 

"  Academy?  Here?  Why,  who  teaches  in  your 
Academy?  " 

"  Me  —  I'm  her  —  I'm  teacher,"  she  told  him 
with  not  a  little  show  of  pride. 

With  difficulty  Johnson  suppressed  a  smile ;  never- 
theless he  observed  soberly: 

"  Oh,  so  you're  the  teacher?  " 

"  Yep  —  I  learn  m'self  an'  the  boys  at  the  same 


202     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

time,"  she  hastened  to  explain,  and  dropped  a  heap- 
ing teaspoon  of  coarse  brown  sugar  into  his  cup. 
"  But  o'  course  Academy's  suspended  when  ther's  a 
blizzard  on  'cause  no  girl  could  git  down  the  moun- 
tain then." 

"  Is  it  so  very  severe  here  when  there's  a  blizzard 
on?"  Johnson  was  saying,  when  there  came  to  his 
ears  a  strange  sound  —  the  sound  of  the  wind  rising 
in  the  canyon  below. 

The  Girl  looked  at  him  in  blank  astonishment  — 
a  look  that  might  easily  have  been  interpreted  as 
saying,  "  Where  do  you  hail  from ?  "  She  answered: 

"  Is  it  .  .  .  ?  Oh,  Lordy,  they  come  in  a 
minute!  All  of  a  sudden  you  don't  know  where 
you  are  —  it's  awful  1  " 

"  Not  many  women  — "  digressed  the  man, 
glancing  apprehensively  towards  the  door,  but  she 
cut  him  short  swiftly  with  the  ejaculation: 

"  Bosh  1  "  And  picking  up  a  plate  she  raised  it 
high  in  the  air  the  better  to  show  off  its  contents. 
"  Charlotte  rusks  an'  lemming  turnover  1  "  she  an- 
nounced, searching  his  face  for  some  sign  of  joy,  her 
own  face  lighting  up  perceptibly. 

"  Well,  this  is  a  treat !  "  cried  out  Johnson  between 
sips  of  coffee. 

"Have  one?" 

"  You  bet  1  "  he  returned  with  unmistakable 
pleasure  in  his  voice. 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      203 

The  Girl  served  him  with  one  of  each,  and  when 
he  thanked  her  she  beamed  with  happiness. 

"  Let  me  send  you  some  little  souvenir  of  to-night  " 
—  he  said,  a  little  while  later,  his  admiring  eyes 
settled  on  her  hair  ot  burnished  gold  which  glistened 
when  the  light  fell  upon  it — "  something  that  you'd 
just  love  to  read  in  your  course  of  teaching  at  the 
Academy."  He  paused  to  search  his  mind  for  some- 
thing suitable  to  suggest  to  her;  at  length  he  ques- 
tioned: "Now,  what  have  you  been  reading 
lately?" 

The  Girl's  face  broke  into  smiles  as  she  answered: 

"  Oh,  it's  an  awful  funny  book  about  a  kepple. 
He  was  a  classic  an'  his  name  was  Dent." 

Johnson  knitted  his  brows  and  thought  a  moment. 

"  He  was  a  classic,  you  say,  and  his  name  was  — 
Oh,  yes,  I  know  —  Dante,"  he  declared,  with  diffi- 
culty controlling  the  laughter  that  well-nigh  con- 
vulsed him.  "  And  you  found  Dante  funny,  did 
you?" 

"Funny?  I  roared!"  acknowledged  the  Girl 
with  a  frankness  that  was  so  genuine  that  Johnson 
could  not  help  but  admire  her  all  the  more.  "  You 
see,  he  loved  a  lady — "  resumed  the  Girl,  toying 
idly  with  her  spoon. 

" —  Beatrice,"  supplemented  Johnson,  pronounc- 
ing the  name  with  the  Italian  accent  which,  by  the 
way,  was  not  lost  on  the  Girl. 


204      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

"  How?  "  she  asked  quickly,  with  eyes  wide  open. 

Johnson  ignored  the  question.  Anxious  to  hear 
her  interpretation  of  the  story,  he  requested  her  to 
continue. 

"  He  loved  a  lady — "  began  the  Girl,  and  broke 
off  short.  And  going  over  to  the  book-shelf  she 
took  down  a  volume  and  began  to  finger  the  leaves 
absently.  Presently  she  came  back,  and  fixing  her 
eyes  upon  him,  she  went  on :  "  It  made  me  think  of 
it,  what  you  said  down  to  the  saloon  to-night  about 
livin'  so  you  didn't  care  what  come  after.  Well,  he 
made  up  his  min',  this  Dent  —  Dantes  —  that  one 
hour  o'  happiness  with  her  was  worth  the  whole 
da — "  She  checked  the  word  on  her  tongue,  and 
concluded:  "  outfit  that  come  after.  He  was  willin' 
to  sell  out  his  chances  for  sixty  minutes  with  'er. 
Well,  I  jest  put  the  book  down  an'  hollered."  And 
once  more  she  broke  into  a  hearty  laugh. 

"  Of  course  you  did,"  agreed  Johnson,  joining  in 
the  laugh.  "  All  the  same,"  he  presently  added, 
"  you  knew  he  was  right." 

"  I  didn't !  "  she  contradicted  with  spirit,  and 
slowly  went  back  to  the  book-shelf  with  the  book. 

"  You  did." 

"Didn't!" 

"  You  did." 

"Didn't!     Didn't!" 

"I  don't—" 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      205 

*'  You  do,  you  do,"  insisted  the  Girl,  plumping 
down  into  the  chair  which  she  had  vacated  at  the 
table. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  — "  Johnson  got  no 
further,  for  the  Girl,  with  a  naivete  that  made  her 
positively  bewitching  to  the  man  before  her,  went 
on  as  if  there  had  been  no  interruption : 

"  That  a  feller  could  so  wind  h'ms'lf  up  as  to 
say,  '  Jest  give  me  one  hour  o'  your  sassiety ;  time  ain't 
nothin',  nothin'  ain't  nothin'  only  to  be  a  da — darn 
fool  over  you!  '  Ain't  it  funny  to  feel  like  that?  " 
And  then,  before  Johnson  could  frame  an  answer: 
"  Yet,  I  s'pose  there  are  people  that  love  into  the 
grave  an'  into  death  an'  after."  The  Girl's  voice 
lowered,  stopped.  Then,  looking  straight  ahead  of 
her,  her  eyes  glistening,  she  broke  out  with : 
"  Golly,  it  jest  lifts  you  right  up  by  your  bootstraps 
to  think  of  it,  don't  it?  " 

Johnson  was  not  smiling  now,  but  sat  gazing  in- 
tently at  her  through  half-veiled  lids. 

"  It  does  have  that  effect,"  he  answered,  the 
wonder  of  it  all  creeping  into  his  voice. 

"  Yet,  p'r'aps  he  was  ahead  o'  the  game. 
P'r'aps — "  She  did  not  finish  the  sentence,  but 
broke  out  with  fresh  enthusiasm:  "  Oh,  say,  I  jest 
love  this  conversation  with  you !  I  love  to  hear  you 
talk!  You  give  me  ideesl  " 

Johnson's  heart  was  too   full   for  utterance;  he 


206      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

could  only  think  of  his  own  happiness.  The  next 
instant  the  Girl  called  to  Wowkle  to  bring  the  candle, 
while  she,  still  eager  and  animated,  her  eyes  bright, 
her  lips  curving  in  a  smile,  took  up  a  cigar  and 
handed  it  to  him,  saying: 

"  One  o'  your  real  Havanas !  " 

"  But  I  " — began  Johnson,  protestingly. 

Nevertheless  the  Girl  lit  a  match  for  him  from 
the  candle  which  Wowkle  held  up  to  her,  and,  while 
the  latter  returned  the  candle  to  the  mantel,  Johnson 
lighted  his  cigar  from  the  burning  match  between 
her  fingers. 

"  Oh,  Girl,  how  I'd  love  to  know  you !  "  he  sud- 
denly cried  with  the  fire  of  love  in  his  eyes. 

"  But  you  do  know  me,"  was  her  answer,  as  she 
watched  the  smoke  from  his  cigar  curl  upwards  to- 
ward the  ceiling. 

"  Not  well  enough,"  he  sighed. 

For  a  brief  second  only  she  was  silent.  Whether 
she  read  his  thoughts  it  would  be  difficult  to  say; 
but  there  came  a  moment  soon  when  she  could  not 
mistake  them. 

"What's  your  drift,  anyway?"  she  asked,  look- 
ing him  full  in  the  face. 

"  To  know  you  as  Dante  knew  the  lady  — '  One 
hour  for  me,  one  hour  worth  the  world,'  "  he  told  her, 
all  the  while  watching  and  loving  her  beauty. 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      207 

At  the  thought  she  trembled  a  little,  though  she 
answered  with  characteristic  bluntness : 

"  He  didn't  git  it,  Mr.  Johnson." 

"  All  the  same  there  are  women  we  could  die 
for,"  insisted  Johnson,  dreamily. 

The  Girl  was  in  the  act  of  carrying  her  cup  to 
her  mouth  but  put  it  down  on  the  table.  Leaning 
forward,  she  inquired  somewhat  sneeringly: 

"  Mr.  Johnson,  how  many  times  have  you  died?  " 

Johnson  did  not  have  to  think  twice  before  an- 
swering. With  wide,  truthful  eyes  he  said : 

"  That  day  on  the  road  to  Monterey  I  said  just 
that  one  woman  for  me.  I  wanted  to  kiss  you  then," 
he  added,  taking  her  hand  in  his.  And,  strange  to 
say,  she  was  not  angry,  not  unwilling,  but  sweetly 
tender  and  modest  as  she  let  it  lay  there. 

"  But,  Mr.  Johnson,  some  men  think  so  much  o' 
kisses  that  they  don't  want  a  second  kiss  from  the 
same  girl,"  spoke  up  the  Giri  after  a  moment's  re- 
flection. 

"  Doesn't  that  depend  on  whether  they  love  her 
or  not?  Now  all  loves  are  not  alike,"  reasoned  the 
man  in  all  truthfulness. 

11  No,  but  they  all  have  the  same  aim  —  to  git  'er 
if  they  can,"  contended  the  Girl,  gently  withdraw- 
ing her  hand. 

Silence  filled  the  room. 


208      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

"  Ah,  I  see  you  don't  know  what  love  is,"  at 
length  sighed  Johnson,  watching  the  colour  come  and 
go  from  her  face. 

The  Girl  hesitated,  then  answered  in  a  confused, 
uneven  voice : 

"  Nope.  Mother  used  to  say,  '  It's  a  tickling  sen- 
sation at  the  heart  that  you  can't  scratch,'  an'  we'll 
let  it  go  at  that." 

"  Oh,  Girl,  you're  bully !  "  laughed  the  man,  ris- 
ing, and  making  an  attempt  to  embrace  her.  But 
all  of  a  sudden  he  stopped  and  stood  with  a  be- 
wildered look  upon  his  face :  a  fierce  gale  was  sweep- 
ing the  mountain.  It  filtered  in  through  the  crevices 
of  the  walls  and  doors;  the  lights  flickered;  the  cur- 
tains swayed;  and  the  cabin  itself  rocked  uncertainly 
until  it  seemed  as  if  it  would  be  uprooted.  It  was 
all  over  in  a  minute.  In  fact,  the  wind  had  died 
away  almost  simultaneously  with  the  Girl's  loud  cry 
of  "  Wowkle,  hist  the  winder!  " 

It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at,  however,  that  John- 
son looked  apprehensively  about  him  with  every 
fresh  impulse  of  the  gale.  The  Girl's  description 
of  the  storms  on  the  mountain  was  fresh  in  his  mind, 
and  there  was  also  good  and  sufficient  reason 
why  he  should  not  be  caught  in  a  blizzard  on  the 
top  of  Cloudy  Mountain !  Nevertheless,  as  before, 
the  calm  look  which  he  saw  on  the  Girl's  face  re- 
assured him.  Advancing  once  more  towards  her, 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      209 

he  stretched  out  his  arms  as  if  to  gather  her  in 
them. 

"  Look  out,  you'll  muss  my  roses !  "  she  cried, 
waving  him  back  and  dodging  Wowkle  who,  hav- 
ing cleared  the  table,  was  now  making  her  last  trip 
to  the  cupboard. 

"Well,  hadn't  you  better  take  them  off  "then?" 
suggested  Johnson,  still  following  her  up. 

"  Give  a  man  an  inch  an'  he'll  be  at  Sank  Hosey 
before  you  know  it !  "  she  flung  at  him  over  her 
shoulder,  and  made  straightway  for  the  bureau. 

But  although  Johnson  desisted,  he  kept  his  eyes 
upon  her  as  she  took  the  roses  from  her  hair,  los- 
ing none  of  the  picture  that  she  made  with  the  light 
beating  and  playing  upon  her  glimmering  eyes,  her 
rosy  cheeks  and  her  parted  lips. 

"Is  there  —  is  there  anyone  else?"  he  inquired 
falteringly,  half-fearful  lest  there  was. 

"A  man  always  says,  'who  was  the  first  one?' 
but  the  girl  says,  'who'll  be  the  next  one?'"  she 
returned,  as  she  carefully  laid  the  roses  in  her  bureau 
drawer. 

"  But  the  time  comes  when  there  never  will  be 
a  next  one." 

"No?" 

"  No." 

"  I'd  hate  to  stake  my  pile  on  that,"  observed  the 
Girl,  drily.  She  blew  up  each  glove  as  it  came  off 


210     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

and  likewise  carefully  laid  them  away  in  the  bureau 
drawer. 

By  this  time  Wowkle's  soft  tread  had  ceased,  her 
duties  for  the  night  were  over,  and  she  stood  at 
the  table  waiting  to  be  dismissed. 

"  Wowkle,  git  to  your  wigwam !  "  suddenly  or- 
dered her  mistress,  watching  her  until  she  disap- 
peared into  the  cupboard;  but  she  did  not  see  the 
Indian  woman's  lips  draw  back  in  a  half-grin  as  she 
closed  the  door  behind  her. 

"Oh,  you're  sending  her  away!  Must  I  go, 
too?"  asked  Johnson,  dismally. 

"  No  —  not  jest  yet;  you  can  stay  a  —  a  hour  or 
two  longer,"  the  Girl  informed  him  with  a  smile;  and 
turning  once  more  to  the  bureau  she  busied  herself 
there  for  a  few  minutes  longer. 

Johnson's  joy  knew  no  bounds;  he  burst  out  de- 
lightedly : 

"  Why,  I'm  like  Dante  1  I  want  the  world  in  that 
hour,  because,  you  see,  I'm  afraid  the  door  of  this 
little  paradise  might  be  shut  to  me  after  —  Let's 
say  this  is  my  one  hour  —  the  hour  that  gave  me  — 
that  kiss  I  want." 

"  Go  long!  You  go  to  grass !  "  returned  the  Girl 
with  a  nervous  little  laugh. 

Johnson  made  one  more  effort  and  won  out;  that 
is,  he  succeeded,  at  last,  in  getting  her  in  his  grasp. 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      211 

"  Listen,"  said  the  determined  lover,  pleading  for 
a  kiss  as  he  would  have  pleaded  for  his  very  life. 

It  was  at  this  juncture  that  Wowkle,  silently, 
stealthily,  emerged  from  the  cupboard  and  made  her 
way  over  to  the  door.  Her  feet  were  heavily  moc- 
casined  and  she  was  blanketed  in  a  stout  blanket  of 
gay  colouring. 

"Ugh  —  some  snow!"  she  muttered,  as  a  gust 
of  wind  beat  against  her  face  and  drove  great  snow- 
flakes  into  the  room,  fairly  taking  her  breath  away. 
But  her  words  fell  on  deaf  ears.  For,  oblivious  to 
the  storm  that  was  now  raging  outside,  the  youthful 
pair  of  lovers  continued  to  concentrate  their  thoughts 
upon  the  storm  that  was  raging  within  their  own 
breasts,  the  Girl  keeping  up  the  struggle  with  her- 
self, while  the  man  urged  her  on  as  only  he  knew 
how. 

"  Why,  if  I  let  you  take  one  you'd  take  two,"  de- 
nied the  Girl,  half-yielding  by  her  very  words,  if  she 
but  knew  it. 

"No,  I  wouldn't  —  I  swear  I  wouldn't,"  prom- 
ised the  man  with  great  earnestness. 

"Ugh  —  very  bad!"  was  the  Indian  woman's 
muffled  ejaculation  as  she  peered  out  into  the  night. 
But  she  had  promised  her  lover  to  come  to  him  when 
supper  was  over,  and  she  would  not  break  faith  with 
him  even  if  it  were  at  the  peril  of  her  life.  The 


212      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

next  moment  she  went  out,  as  did  the  red  light  in  the 
Girl's  lantern  hanging  on  a  peg  of  the  outer  door. 

"  Oh,  please,  please,"  said  the  Girl,  half-pro- 
testingly,  half-willingly. 

But  the  man  was  no  longer  to  be  denied;  he  kept 
on  urging: 

"  One  kiss,  only  one." 

Here  was  an  appeal  which  could  no  longer  be 
resisted,  and  though  half-frightened  by  the  tone  of 
his  voice  and  the  look  in  his  eye,  the  Girl  let  herself 
be  taken  into  his  arms  as  she  murmured: 

"  'Tain't  no  use,  I  lay  down  my  hands  to  you." 

And  so  it  was  that,  unconscious  of  the  great  havoc 
that  was  being  wrought  by  the  storm,  unconscious 
of  the  danger  that  momentarily  threatened  their  lives, 
they  remained  locked  in  each  other's  arms.  The 
Girl  made  no  attempt  to  silence  him  now  or  with- 
draw her  hands  from  his.  Why  should  she  ?  Had 
he  not  come  to  Cloudy  Mountain  to  woo  her? 
Was  she  not  awaiting  his  coming?  To  her  it 
seemed  but  natural  that  the  conventions  should  be 
as  nothing  in  the  face  of  love.  His  voice,  low  and 
musical,  charged  with  passion,  thrilled  through  her. 

"  I  love  you,"  said  the  man,  with  a  note  of 
possession  that  frightened  her  while  it  filled  her  with 
strange,  sweet  joy.  For  months  she  had  dreamed  of 
him  and  loved  him;  no  wonder  that  she  looked  upon 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      213 

him  as  her  hero  and  yielded  herself  entirely  to  her 
fate. 

She  lifted  her  eyes  and  he  saw  the  love  in  them. 
She  freed  her  hands  from  his  grasp,  and  then  gave 
them  back  to  him  in  a  little  gesture  of  surrender. 

"  Yes,  you're  mine,  an'  I'm  yours,"  she  said  with 
trembling  lips. 

"  I  have  lived  but  for  this  from  the  moment  that 
I  first  saw  you,"  he  told  her,  softly. 

"  Me,  too  —  seem'  that  I've  prayed  for  it  day 
an'  night,"  she  acknowledged,  her  eyes  seeking  his. 

"Our  destinies  have  brought  us  together;  what- 
ever happens  now  I  am  content,"  he  said,  pressing 
his  lips  once  more  to  hers.  A  little  while  later  he 
added :  -  "  My  darkest  hour  will  be  lightened  by  the 
memory  of  you,  to-night." 


XII 

THE  clock,  striking  the  hour  of  two,  filled  in  a  lull 
that  might  otherwise  have  seemed  to  require  con- 
versation. For  some  minutes,  Johnson,  raised  to  a 
higher  level  of  exaltation,  even,  than  was  the  Girl, 
had  been  secretly  rejoicing  in  the  Fate  that  had 
brought  them  together. 

"  It's  wonderful  that  I  should  have  found  her  at 
last  and  won  her  love,"  he  soliloquised.  "  We  must 
be  Fortune's  children  —  she  and  I." 

The  minutes  ticked  away  and  still  they  were  silent. 
Then,  of  a  sudden,  with  infinite  tenderness  in  his 
voice,  Johnson  asked : 

"What  is  your  name,  Girl  —  your  real  name?" 

"  Min  —  Minnie;  my  father's  name  was  Smith," 
she  told  him,  her  eyes  cast  down  under  delicately 
tremulous  lids. 

"  Oh,  Minnie  Sm— " 

"  But  'twa'n't  his  right  name,"  quickly  corrected 
the  Girl,  and  unconsciously  both  rose  to  their  feet. 
"  His  right  name  was  Falconer." 

"  Minnie  Falconer  —  well,  that  is  a  pretty  name," 
commented  Johnson;  and  raising  her  hand  to  his 
lips  he  pressed  them  against  it. 

"  I  ain't  sure  that's  what  he  said  it  was  —  I  ain't 
214 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      215 

sure  o'  anythin'  only  jest  you,"  she  said  coyly,  bury- 
ing her  face  in  his  neck. 

"  You  may  well  be  sure  of  me  since  I've  loved  — " 
Johnson's  sentence  was  cut  short,  a  wave  of  remorse 
sweeping  over  him.  "  Turn  your  head  away,  Girl, 
and  don't  listen  to  me,"  he  went  on,  gently  putting 
her  away  from  him.  "  I'm  not  worthy  of  you. 
Don't  listen  but  just  say  no,  no,  no,  no." 

The  Girl,  puzzled,  was  even  more  so  when  John- 
son began  to  pace  the  floor. 

"  Oh,  I  know  —  I  ain't  good  enough  for  you !  " 
she  cried  with  a  little  tremour  in  her  voice.  "  But 
I'll  try  hard,  hard.  ...  If  you  see  anythin' 
better  in  me,  why  don't  you  bring  it  out,  'cause  I've 
loved  you  ever  since  I  saw  you  first,  'cause  I  knowed 
that  you  —  that  you  were  the  right  man." 

"  The  right  man,"  repeated  Johnson,  dismally,  for 
his  conscience  was  beginning  to  smite  him  hard. 

"  Don't  laugh !" 

"  I'm  not  laughing,"  as  indeed  he  was  not. 

"  O'  course  every  girl  kind  o'  looks  ahead,"  went 
on  the  Girl  in  explanation. 

"  Yes,  I  suppose,"  he  observed  seriously. 

"  An'  figgers  about  bein'  —  well,  Oh,  you  know 
—  about  bein'  settled.  An'  when  the  right  man 
comes,  why,  she  knows  'im,  you  bet  I  Jest  as  we 
both  knowed  each  other  standin'  on  the  road  to 


216     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

Monterey.  I  said  that  day,  he's  good,  he's  gran'  an' 
he  can  have  me." 

"  I  could  have  you,"  murmured  Johnson,  medi- 
tatively. 

The  Girl  nodded  eagerly. 

There  was  a  long  silence  in  which  Johnson  was 
trying  to  make  up  his  mind  to  tear  himself  away 
from  her, —  the  one  woman  whom  he  loved  in  the 
world, —  for  it  had  been  slowly  borne  in  upon  him 
that  he  was  not  a  fit  mate  for  this  pure  young  girl. 
Nor  was  his  unhappiness  lessened  when  he  recalled 
how  she  had  struggled  against  yielding  to  him.  At 
last,  difficult  though  it  was,  he  took  his  courage  in 
both  hands,  and  said: 

"  Girl,  I  have  looked  into  your  heart  and  my  own 
and  now  I  realise  what  this  means  for  us  both  — 
for  you,  Girl  —  and  knowing  that,  it  seems  hard 
to  say  good-bye  as  I  should,  must  and  will.  .  .  ." 

At  those  clear  words  spoken  by  lips  which  failed 
so  utterly  to  hide  his  misery,  the  Girl's  face  turned 
pale. 

"  What  do  you  mean?  "  she  asked. 

Johnson  coloured,  hesitated,  and  finally  with  a 
swift  glance  at  the  clock,  he  briefly  explained: 

"  I  mean  it's  hard  to  go  and  leave  you  here. 
The  clock  reminded  me  that  long  before  this  I 
should  have  been  on  my  way.  I  shouldn't  have 
come  up  here  at  all.  God  bless  you,  dear," 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      217 

and  here  their  eyes  came  together  and  seemed  un- 
able to  part, —  I  love  you  as  I  never  thought  I 
could.  .  .  ." 

But  at  Johnson's  queer  look  she  hastened  to  in- 
quire: 

"  But  it  ain't  for  long  you're  goin'?  " 

For  long!  Then  she  had  not  understood  that 
he  meant  to  go  for  all  time.  How  tell  her  the 
truth?  While  he  pondered  over  the  situation  there 
came  to  him  with  great  suddenness  the  thought 
that,  perhaps,  after  all,  Life  never  intended  that  she 
should  be  given  to  him  only  to  be  taken  away  al- 
most as  suddenly ;  and  seized  with  a  desire  to  hold  on 
to  her  at  any  cost,  he  sprang  forward  as  if  to  take 
her  in  his  arms,  but  before  he  reached  her,  he 
stopped  short. 

"  Such  happiness  is  not  for  me,"  he  muttered 
under  his  breath ;  and  then  aloud  he  added :  "  No, 
no,  I've  got  to  go  now  while  I  have  the  courage,  I 
mean."  He  broke  off  as  suddenly  as  he  had  be- 
gun, and  taking  her  face  in  his  hands  he  kissed  her 
good-bye. 

Now,  accustomed  as  was  the  Girl  to  the  strange 
comings  and  goings  of  the  men  at  the  camp,  it  did 
not  occur  to  her  to  question  him  further  when  he 
told  her  that  he  should  have  been  away  before  now. 
Moreover,  she  trusted  and  loved  him.  And  so  it 
was  without  the  slightest  feeling  of  misgiving  that 


2i8      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

she  watched  her  lover  quickly  take  down  his  coat 
and  hat  from  the  peg  on  the  wall  and  start  for  the 
door.  On  the  other  hand,  it  must  have  required 
not  a  little  courage  on  the  man's  part  to  have  torn 
himself  away  from  this  lovely,  if  unconventional, 
creature,  just  as  he  was  beginning  to  love  truly  and 
appreciate  her.  But,  then,  Johnson  was  a  man  of 
no  mean  determination! 

Not  daring  to  trust  himself  to  words,  Johnson 
paused  to  look  back  over  his  shoulder  at  the  Girl 
before  plunging  forth  into  the  night.  But  on  open- 
ing the  door  all  the  multitudinous  wild  noises  of  the 
forests  reached  his  ears :  Sounds  of  whispering  and 
rocking  storm-tossed  pines,  sounds  of  the  wind  mak- 
ing the  rounds  of  the  deep  canyon  below  them, 
sounds  that  would  have  made  the  blood  run  cold  of 
a  man  more  daring,  even,  than  himself.  Like  one 
petrified  he  stood  blinded,  almost,  by  the  great  drifts 
of  snow  that  were  being  driven  into  the  room, 
while  the  cabin  rocked  and  shook  and  the  roof 
cracked  and  snapped,  the  lights  flickered,  smoked, 
or  sent  their  tongues  of  fire  upward  towards  the  ceil- 
ing, the  curtains  swayed  like  pendants  in  the  air. 
and  while  baskets,  boxes,  and  other  small  furnish- 
ings of  the  cabin  were  blown  in  every  direction. 

But  it  was  the  Girl's  quick  presence  of  mind  that 
saved  them  from  being  buried,  literally,  under  the 
snow.  In  an  instant  she  had  rushed  past  him  and 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      219 

closed  both  the  outer  and  inner  doors  of  the  cabin; 
then,  going  over  to  the  window,  she  tried  to  look 
through  the  heavily  frosted  panes;  but  the  falling 
of  the  sleet  and  snow,  striking  the  window  like  fine 
shot,  made  it  impossible  for  her  to  see  more  than  a 
few  inches  away. 

"  Why,  it's  the  first  time  I  knew  that  it  — "  She 
cut  her  sentence  short  and  ended  with :  "  That's 
the  way  we  git  it  up  here!  Look!  Look!  " 

Whereupon,  Johnson  went  over  to  the  window 
and  put  his  face  close  to  hers  on  the  frosted  panes; 
a  great  sea  of  white  snow  met  his  gaze ! 

"  This  means  — "  he  said,  turning  away  from  the 
window  and  meeting  her  glance  — "  surely  it  doesn't 
mean  that  I  can't  leave  Cloudy  to-night?" 

"  It  means  you  can't  get  off  the  mountain  to- 
night," calmly  answered  the  Girl. 

"  Good  Lord !  "  fell  from  the  man's  lips. 

"  You  can't  leave  this  room  to-night,"  went  on 
the  Girl,  decidedly.  "  Why,  you  couldn't  find  your 
way  three  feet  from  this  door  —  you  a  stranger! 
You  don't  know  the  trail  anyway  unless  you  can 
see  it." 

"  But  I  can't  stay  here?  "  incredulously. 

"Why  not?  Why,  that's  all  right!  The 
boys'll  come  up  an'  dig  us  out  tp-morrow  or  day 
after.  There's  plenty  o'  wood  an'  you  can  have  my 
bed."  And  with  no  more  ado  than  that,  the  Girl 


220     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

went  over  to  the  bed  to  remove  the  covers  and  make 
it  ready  for  his  occupancy. 

"  I  wouldn't  think  of  taking  that,"  protested  the 
man,  stoutly,  while  his  face  clouded  over. 

The  Girl  felt  a  thrill  at  the  note  of  regard  in  hif 
voice  and  hastened  to  explain : 

"  I  never  use  it  cold  nights ;  I  always  roll  up  in 
my  rug  in  front  of  the  fire."  All  of  a  sudden  she 
broke  out  into  a  merry  little  laugh.  "  Jest  think  of 
it  stormin'  all  this  time  an'  we  didn't  know  it!  " 

But  Johnson  was  not  in  a  laughing  mood.  In- 
deed, he  looked  very  grave  and  serious  when  pres- 
ently he  said : 

"  But  people  coming  up  here  and  finding  me 
might — " 

The  Girl  looked  up  at  him  in  blank  amazement. 

"Might  what?"  And  then,  while  she  waited 
for  his  answer,  two  shots  in  close  succession  rang 
out  in  the  night  with  great  distinctness. 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  nearness  of  the 
sound.  Instantly  scenting  trouble  and  alert  at  the 
possibility  of  danger,  Johnson  inquired: 

"  What's  that?     What's  that?  " 

"Wait!  Wait!  "  came  back  from  the  Girl,  un- 
consciously in  the  same  tone,  while  she  strained  her 
ears  for  other  sounds.  She  did  not  have  long  to 
wait,  however,  before  other  shots  followed,  the  last 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      221 

ones  coming  from  further  away,  so  it  seemed,  and 
at  greater  intervals. 

"They've  got  a  road  agent  —  it's  the  posse  — 
p'r'aps  they've  got  Ramerrez  or  one  o'  his  band!  " 
suddenly  declared  the  Girl,  at  the  same  time  rushing 
over  to  the  window  for  some  verification  of  her 
words.  But,  as  before,  the  wind  was  beating  with 
great  force  against  the  frosted  panes,  and  only  a 
vast  stretch  of  snow  met  her  gaze.  Turning  away 
from  the  window  she  now  came  towards  him  with: 
"  You  see,  whoever  it  is,  they're  snowed  in  —  they 
can't  get  away." 

Johnson  knitted  his  brows  and  muttered  some- 
thing under  his  breath  which  the  Girl  did  not  catch. 

Again  a  shot  was  fired. 

"  Another  thief  crep'  into  camp,"  coldly  observed 
the  Girl  almost  simultaneously  with  the  report. 

Johnson  winced. 

"  Poor  devil !  "  he  muttered.  "  But  of  course, 
as  you  say,  he's  only  a  thief." 

In  reply  to  which  the  Girl  uttered  words  to  the 
effect  that  she  was  glad  he  had  been  caught. 

"  Well,  you're  right,"  said  Johnson,  thoughtfully, 
after  a  short  silence;  then  determinedly  and  in  short 
jerky  sentences,  he  went  on :  "  I've  been  thinking  that 
I  must  go  —  tear  myself  away.  I  have  very  important 
business  at  dawn  —  imperative  business  .  .  ." 


222      GIRL.  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

The  Girl,  who  now  stood  by  the  table  folding  up 
the  white  cloth  cover,  watched  him  out  of  the  corner 
of  her  eye,  take  down  his  coat  from  the  peg  on  the 
wall. 

"Ever  sample  one  o'  our  mountain  blizzards?" 
she  asked  as  he  slipped  on  his  coat.  "  In  five  min- 
utes you  wouldn't  know  where  you  was.  Your  im- 
portant business  would  land  you  at  the  bottom  of 
a  canyon  'bout  twenty  feet  from  here." 

Johnson  cleared  his  throat  as  if  to  speak  but  said 
nothing;  whereupon  the  Girl  continued: 

"  You  say  you  believe  in  Fate.  Well,  Fate  has 
caught  up  with  you  —  you  got  to  stay  here." 

Johnson  was  strangely  silent.  He  was  wonder- 
ing how.  his  coming  there  to-night  had  really  come 
about.  But  he  could  find  no  solution  to  the  prob- 
lem unless  it  was  in  response  to  that  perverse  instinct 
which  prompts  us  all  at  times  to  do  the  very  thing 
which  in  our  hearts  we  know  to  be  wrong.  The 
Girl,  meanwhile,  after  a  final  creasing  of  the  neatly- 
folded  cover,  started  for  the  cupboard,  stopping 
on  the  way  to  pick  up  various  articles  which  the  wind 
had  strewn  about  the  room.  Flinging  them  quickly 
into  the  cupboard  she  now  went  over  to  the  window 
and  once  more  attempted  to  peer  out  into  the  night. 
But  as  before,  it  was  of  no  avail.  With  a  shrug  she 
straightened  the  curtains  at  the  windows  and  started 
for  the  door.  Her  action  seemed  to  quicken  his  de- 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      223 

cision,  for,  presently,  with  a  gesture  of  resignation, 
he  threw  down  his  hat  and  coat  on  the  table  and  said 
as  if  speaking  to  himself: 

"  Well,  it  is  Fate  —  my  Fate  that  has  always 
made  the  thing  I  shouldn't  do  so  easy."  And  then, 
turning  to  the  Girl,  he  added:  "Come,  Girl,  a* 
you  say,  if  I  can't  go,  I  can't.  But  I  know  as  I  stand 
here  that  I'll  never  give  you  up." 

The  Girl  looked  puzzled. 

"  Why,  what  do  you  mean?  " 

"  I  mean,"  began  Johnson,  pacing  the  floor  slowly. 
Now  he  stopped  by  a  chair  and  pointed  as  though 
to  the  falling  snow.  "  Suppose  we  say  that's  an 
omen  —  that  the  old  trail  is  blotted  out  and  there 
is  a  fresh  road.  Would  you  take  it  with  me  a  stran- 
ger, who  says :  From  this  day  I  mean  to  be  all  you'd 
have  me.  Would  you  take  it  with  me  far  away 
from  here  and  forever?  " 

It  did  not  take  the  Girl  long  to  frame  an  answer. 
Taking  Johnson's  hand  she  said  with  great  feeling: 

"  Well,  show  me  the  girl  that  would  want  to  go 
to  Heaven  alone !  I'll  sell  out  the  saloon  —  I'll  go 
anywhere  with  you,  you  bet !  " 

Johnson  bent  low  over  her  hand  and  kissed  it. 
The  Girl's  straightforward  answer  had  filled  his  heart 
to  overflowing  with  joy. 

"  You  know  what  that  means,  don't  you?  "  a  mo- 
ment later  he  asked. 


224     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

Sudden  joy  leapt  to  her  blue  eyes. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  she  told  him  with  a  world  of  under- 
standing in  her  voice.  There  was  a  silence;  then 
she  went  on  reminiscently :  "There's  a  little  Span- 
ish Mission  church  —  I  pass  it  'most  every  day.  I 
can  look  in  an'  see  the  light  burnin'  before  the  Virgin 
an'  see  the  saints  standin'  round  with  glassy  eyes  an' 
faded  satin  slippers.  An'  I  often  tho't  what  they'd 
think  if  I  was  to  walk  right  in  to  be  made  —  well, 
some  man's  wife.  It  makes  your  blood  like  pin- 
points thinkin'  about  it.  There's  somethin'  kind  o' 
holy  about  love,  ain't  they?  " 

Johnson  nodded.  He  had  never  regarded  love 
in  that  light  before,  much  less  known  it.  For  many 
moments  he  stood  motionless,  a  new  problem  of 
right  and  wrong  throbbing  in  his  bosom. 

At  last,  it  being  settled  that  Johnson  was  to  pass 
the  night  in  the  Girl's  cabin,  she  went  over  to  the  bed 
and,  once  more,  began  to  make  it  ready  for  his  occu- 
pancy. Meanwhile,  Johnson,  seated  in  the  barrel 
rocker  before  the  fire,  watched  her  with  a  new  inter- 
est. The  Girl  had  not  gone  very  far  with  her  duties, 
however,  when  she  suddenly  came  over  to  him, 
plumping  herself  down  on  the  floor  at  his  feet. 

"  Say,  did  you  ever  ask  any  other  woman  to  marry 
you?  "  she  asked  as  she  leaned  far  back  in  his  arms. 

"  No,"  was  the  man's  truthful  answer. 

"  Oh,  how  glad  I  am !     Take  me  —  ah,  take  me 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      225 

I  don't  care  where  as  long  as  it  is  with  you  1  "  cried 
the  Girl  in  an  ecstasy  of  delight. 

"  So  help  me,  God,  I'm  going  to  ...  I  " 
promised  Johnson,  his  voice  strained,  tense. 
"  You're  worth  something  better  than  me,  Girl,"  he 
added,  a  moment  later,  "  but  they  say  love  works 
miracles  every  hour,  that  it  weakens  the  strong  and 
strengthens  the  weak.  With  all  my  soul  I  love  you, 
with  all  my  soul  I  — "  The  man  let  his  voice  die 
out,  leaving  his  sentence  unfinished.  Suddenly  he 
called:  "Why,  Min-Minnie !  " 

"  I  wasn't  really  asleep,"  spoke  up  the  Girl,  blink- 
ing sleepily.  "  I'm  jest  so  happy  an'  let  down,  that's 
all."  The  next  moment,  however,  she  was  forced 
to  acknowledge  that  she  was  awfully  sleepy  and 
would  have  to  say  good-night. 

"  All  right,"  said  Johnson,  rising,  and  kissed  her 
good-night. 

"  That's  your  bed  over  there,"  she  told  him,  point- 
ing in  the  direction  of  the  curtains. 

"  But  hadn't  you  better  take  the  bed  and  let  me 
sleep  over  here?  " 

"Not  much!" 

"  You're  sure  you  would  be  more  comfortable  by 
the  fire  —  sure,  now?" 

"Yes,  you  bet!" 

And  so  it  was  that  Johnson  decided  to  pass  the 
night  in  the  Girl's  canopied  bed  while  she  herself, 


226     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

rolled  up  in  a  blanket  rug  before  the  fire,  slept  on 
the  floor. 

"  This  beats  a  bed  any  time,"  remarked  the  Girl, 
spreading  out  the  rug  smoothly;  and  then,  reaching 
up  for  the  old  patchwork,  silk  quilt  that  hung  from 
:he  loft,  she  added :  "  There's  one  thing  —  you 
don't  have  to  make  it  up  in  the  mornin'." 

"  You're  splendid,  Girl  1  "  laughed  Johnson. 
Presently,  he  saw  her  quietly  closet  herself  in  the 
cupboard,  only  to  emerge  a  few  minutes  later  dressed 
for  the  night.  Over  her  white  cambric  gown  with 
its  coarse  lace  trimming  showing  at  the  throat,  she 
wore  a  red  woollen  blanket  robe  held  in  at  the  waist 
by  a  heavy,  twisted,  red  cord  which,  to  the  man  who 
got  a  glimpse  of  her  as  she  crossed  the  room,  made 
her  prettier,  even,  than  she  had  seemed  at  any  time 
yet. 

Quietly,  now,  the  Girl  began  to  put  her  house  in 
order.  All  the  lights,  save  the  quaintly-shaded  lamp 
that  was  suspended  over  the  table,  were  extinguished; 
that  one,  after  many  unsuccessful  attempts,  was 
turned  down  so  as  to  give  the  right  minimum  of  light 
which  would  not  interfere  with  her  lover's  sleep. 
Then  she  went  over  to  the  door  to  make  sure  that  it 
was  bolted.  Outside  the  wind  howled  and  shrieked 
and  moaned;  but  inside  the  cabin  it  had  never  seemed 
more  cosey  and  secure  and  peaceful  to  her. 

"  Now  you  can  talk  to  me  from  your  bunk  an' 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      227 

I'll  talk  to  you  from  mine,"  she  said  in  a  sleepy,  lazy 
voice. 

Except  for  a  prodigious  yawn  which  came  from 
the  Girl  there  was  an  ominous  quiet  hanging  over  the 
place  that  chilled  the  man.  Sudden  sounds  startled 
him,  and  he  found  it  impossible  to  make  any  prog- 
ress with  his  preparations  for  the  night.  He  was 
about  to  make  some  remark,  however,  when  to  his 
well-attuned  ears  there  came  the  sound  of  approach- 
ing footsteps.  In  an  instant  he  was  standing  in  the 
parting  made  by  the  curtains,  his  face  eager,  ani- 
mated, tense. 

"What's  that?"  he  whispered. 

"  That's  snow  slidin',"  the  Girl  informed  him 
without  the  slightest  trace  of  anxiety  in  her  voice. 

"  God  bless  you,  Girl,"  he  murmured,  and  re- 
treated back  of  the  curtains.  It  was  only  an  instant 
before  he  was  back  again  with:  "Why,  there  is 
something  out  there  —  sounded  like  people  calling," 
he  again  whispered. 

"  That's  only  the  wind,"  she  said,  adding  as  she 
drew  her  robe  tightly  about  her :  "  Gettin'  cold, 
ain't  it?  " 

But,  notwithstanding  her  assurances,  Johnson  did 
not  feel  secure,  and  it  was  with  many  misgivings 
that  he  now  directed  his  footsteps  towards  the  bed 
behind  the  curtains. 

"  Good-night!  "  he  said  uneasily. 


228      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

"  Good-night !  "  unconsciously  returned  the  Girl  in 
the  same  tone. 

Taking  off  her  slippers  the  Girl  now  put  on  a  pair 
of  moccasins  and  quietly  went  over  to  her  bed,  where 
she  knelt  down  and  made  a  silent  prayer. 

"  Good-night !  "  presently  came  from  a  little  voice 
in  the  rug. 

"  Good-night!  "  answered  the  man  now  settled  in 
the  centre  of  the  much-befrilled  bed. 

There  was  a  silence ;  then  the  little  voice  in  the  rug 
called  out: 

"  Say,  what's  your  name?  " 

"  Dick,"  whispered  the  man  behind  the  curtains. 

"  So  long,  Dick!  "  drowsily. 

"  So  long,  Girl !  "  dreamily. 

There  was  a  brief  silence;  then,  of  a  sudden,  the 
Girl  bolted  upright  in  bed,  and  asked: 

"  Say,  Dick,  are  you  sure  you  don't  know  that 
Nina  Micheltorena?  " 

"  Sure,"  prevaricated  the  man,  not  without  some 
compunction. 

Whereupon  the  Girl  fell  back  on  her  pillows  and 
called  out  contentedly  a  final  "  Good-night!  " 


XIII 

THERE  was  no  mistaking  then  —  no  need  to  con- 
trast her  feeling  of  anxiety  of  a  few  moments  ago 
lest  some  other  woman  had  preceded  her  in  his  af- 
fections, with  her  indifference  on  former  occasions 
when  her  admirers  had  proved  faithless,  to  make  the 
Girl  realise  that  she  was  experiencing  love  and  was 
dominated  by  a  passion  for  this  man. 

So  that,  with  no  reason  whatever  in  her  mind  to 
question  the  sincerity  of  Johnson's  love  for  her,  it 
would  seem  as  if  nothing  were  wanting  to  make  the 
Girl  perfectly  happy;  that  there  could  be  no  room 
in  her  heart  for  any  feeling  other  than  elation. 
And  yet,  curiously  enough,  the  Girl  could  not  doze 
off  to  sleep.  Some  mysterious  force  —  a  vague 
foreboding  of  something  about  to  happen  —  im- 
pelled her  to  open  her  eyes  again  and  again. 

It  was  an  odd  and  wholly  new  sensation,  this  con- 
juring up  of  distressing  spectres,  for  no  girl  was 
given  less  to  that  sort  of  thing;  all  the  same,  it  was 
with  difficulty  that  she  checked  an  impulse  to  cry  out 
to  her  lover  —  whom  she  believed  to  be  asleep  — 
and  make  him  dissipate,  by  renewed  assurances,  the 
mysterious  barrier  which  she  felt  was  hemming  her  in. 

As  for  Johnson,  the  moment  that  his  head  had 
touched  the  pillows,  he  fell  to  thinking  of  the  awk- 
229 


23o     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

ward  situation  in  which  he  was  placed,  the  many 
complications  in  which  his  heart  had  involved  him 
and,  finally,  he  found  himself  wondering  whether 
the  woman  whom  he  loved  so  dearly  was  also  lying 
sleepless  in  her  rug  on  the  floor. 

And  so  it  was  not  surprising  that  he  should  spring 
up  the  moment  that  he  heard  cries  from  outside. 

"Who's  that  knockin',  I  wonder?" 

Although  her  voice  showed  no  signs  of  distress 
or  annoyance,  the  question  coming  from  her  in 
a  calm  tone,  the  Girl  was  upon  her  feet  almost  be- 
fore she  knew  it.  In  a  trice  she  removed  all  evi- 
dences that  she  had  been  lying  upon  the  floor,  fling- 
ing the  pillows  and  silk  coverlet  to  the  wardrobe 
top. 

In  that  same  moment  Johnson  was  standing  in 
the  parting  of  the  curtains,  his  hand  raised  warn- 
ingly.  In  another  moment  he  was  over  to  the  door 
where,  after  taking  his  pistols  from  his  overcoat 
pockets,  he  stood  in  a  cool,  determined  attitude,  fin- 
gering his  weapons. 

"  But  some  one's  ben  callin',"  the  Girl  was  saying, 
at  the  very  moment  when  above  the  loud  roaring  of 
the  wind  another  knock  was  heard  on  the  cabin  door. 
"Who  can  it  be?"  she  asked  as  if  to  herself,  and 
calmly  went  over  to  the  table,  where  she  took  up  the 
candle  and  lit  it. 

Springing  to  her  side,  Johnson  whispered  tensely: 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      231 

"  Don't  answer  —  you  can't  let  anyone  in  —  they 
wouldn't  understand." 

The  Girl  eyed  him  quizzically. 

"  Understand  what?"  And  before  he  had  time 
to  explain,  much  less  to  check  her,  she  was  standing 
at  the  window,  candle  in  hand,  peering  out  into  the 
night. 

"  Why,  it's  the  posse !  "  she  cried,  wheeling  round 
suddenly.  "  How  did  they  ever  risk  it  in  this 
storm?  " 

At  these  words  a  crushed  expression  appeared  on 
Johnson's  countenance ;  an  uncanny  sense  of  insecurity 
seized  him.  Once  more  the  loud,  insistent  pound- 
ing was  repeated,  and  as  before,  the  outlaw,  his  hands 
on  his  guns,  commanded  her  not  to  answer. 

"  But  what  on  earth  do  the  boys  want?  "  inquired 
the  Girl,  seemingly  oblivious  to  what  he  was  saying. 
Indeed,  so  much  so  that  as  the  voice  of  Nick  rose 
high  above  the  other  sounds  of  the  night,  calling, 
"  Min-Minnie-Girl,  let  us  in !  "  she  hurriedly  brushed 
past  him  and  yelled  through  the  door : 

"  What  do  you  want?  " 

Again  Johnson's  hand  went  up  imperatively. 

"  Don't  let  him  come  in !  "  he  whispered. 

But  even  then  she  heard  not  his  warning,  but  si- 
lently, tremulously  listened  to  Sonora,  who  shouted 
through  the  door:  "Say,  Girl,  you  all  right?" 
And  not  until  her  answering  voice  had  called  back 


232      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

her  assurance  that  she  was  safe  did  she  turn  to  the 
man  at  her  side  and  whisper  in  a  voice  that  showed 
plainly  her  agitation  and  fear : 

"  Jack  Ranee  is  there !  If  he  was  to  see  you  here 
—  he's  that  jealous  I'd  be  afraid — "  She  checked 
her  words  and  quickly  put  her  ear  close  to  the  door, 
the  voices  outside  having  become  louder  and  more  dis- 
tinct. Presently  she  spun  round  on  her  heel  and  an- 
nounced excitedly:  "  Ashby's  there,  too!"  And 
again  she  put  her  ear  to  the  door. 

"  Ashby !  "  The  exclamation  fell  from  Johnson's 
lips  before  he  was  aware  of  it.  It  was  impossible  to 
deceive  himself  any  longer  —  the  posse  had  tracked 
him! 

"  We  want  to  come  in,  Girl!  "  suddenly  rang  out 
from  the  well-known  voice  of  Nick. 

"  But  you  can't  come  in !  "  shouted  back  the  Girl 
above  the  noise  of  the  storm ;  then,  taking  advantage 
of  a  particularly  loud  howl  of  the  blast,  she  turned  to 
Johnson  and  inquired:  "  What  will  I  say ?  What 
reason  will  I  give?  " 

Serious  as  was  Johnson's  predicament,  he  could 
not  suppress  a  smile.  In  a  surprisedly  calm  voice  he 
told  her  to  say  that  she  had  gone  to  bed. 

The  Girl's  eyes  flooded  with  admiration. 

"  Why,  o'  course  —  that's  it,"  she  said,  and  turned 
back  to  the  door  and  called  through  it:  "  I've  gone 
to  bed,  Nick!  I'm  in  bed  now!  " 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      233 

The  barkeeper's  answer  was  lost  in  another  loud 
howl  of  the  blast.  Soon  afterwards,  however,  the 
Girl  made  out  that  Nick  was  endeavouring  to  con- 
vey to  her  a  warning  of  some  kind. 

"  You  say  you've  come  to  warn  me?  "  she  cried. 

"  Yes,  Ramerrez     .     .     . !  " 

"What?     Say  that  again?" 

"  Ramerrez  is  on  the  trail  — " 

"  Ramerrez's  on  the  trail  1  "  repeated  the  Girl  in 
tones  of  alarm ;  and  not  waiting  to  hear  further  she 
motioned  to  Johnson  to  conceal  himself  behind  the 
curtains  of  the  bed,  muttering  the  while: 

"  I  got  to  let  'em  in  —  I  can't  keep  'em  out  there 
on  such  a  night.  .  .  ."  He  had  barely  reached 
his  place  of  concealment  when  the  Girl  slid  back  the 
bolts  and  bade  the  boys  to  come  in. 

Headed  by  Ranee,  the  men  quickly  filed  in  and 
deposited  their  lanterns  on  the  floor.  It  was  evident 
that  they  had  found  the  storm  most  severe,  for  their 
boots  were  soaked  through  and  their  heavy  buffalo 
overcoats,  caps  and  ear-muffs  were  covered  with  snow, 
which  all,  save  Ranee,  proceeded  to  remove  by  shak- 
ing their  shoulders  and  stamping  their  feet.  The 
latter,  however,  calmly  took  off  his  gloves,  pulled 
out  a  beautifully-creased  handkerchief  from  his 
pocket,  and  began  slowly  to  flick  off  the  snow  rrom 
his  elegant  mink  overcoat  before  hanging  it  carefully 
upon  a  peg  on  the  wall.  After  that  he  went  over  to 


234     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

the  table  and  warmed  his  hands  over  the  lighted  can- 
dle there.  Meanwhile,  Sonora,  his  nose,  as  well  as 
his  hands  which  with  difficulty  he  removed  from  his 
heavy  fur  mittens,  showing  red  and  swollen  from 
the  effects  of  the  biting  cold,  had  gone  over  to  the 
fire,  where  he  ejaculated: 

"  Ouf,  I'm  cold !     Glad  you're  safe,  Girl !  " 

"  Yes,  Girl,  The  Polka's  had  a  narrow  squeak," 
observed  Nick,  stamping  his  feet  which,  as  well  as 
his  legs,  were  wrapped  with  pieces  of  blankets  for 
added  warmth. 

Unconsciously,  at  his  words,  the  Girl's  eyes  trav- 
elled to  the  bed;  then,  drawing  her  robe  snugly  about 
her,  and  seating  herself,  she  asked  with  suppressed 
excitement : 

"  Why,  Nick,  what's  the  matter?     What's — " 

Ranee  took  it  upon  himself  to  do  the  answering. 
Sauntering  over  to  the  Girl,  he  drawled  out: 

"  It  takes  you  a  long  time  to  get  up,  seems  to  me. 
You  haven't  so  much  on,  either,"  he  went  on,  pierc- 
ing her  with  his  eyes. 

Smilingly  and  not  in  the  least  disconcerted  by  the 
Sheriff's  remark,  the  Girl  picked  up  a  rug  from  the 
floor  and  wound  it  about  her  knees. 

"Well?"  she  interrogated. 

"  Well,  we  was  sure  that  you  was  in  trouble,"  put 
in  Sonora.  "  My  breath  jest  stopped." 

"  Me?     Me  in  trouble,  Sonora?  "     A  little  laugh 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      235 

that  was  half-gay,  half-derisive,  accompanied  her 
words. 

"  See  here,  that  man  Ramerrez  — "  followed  up 
Ranee  with  a  grim  look. 

" —  feller  you  was  dancin'  with,"  interposed  So- 
nora,  but  checked  himself  instantly  lest  he  wound 
the  Girl's  feelings. 

Whereupon,  Ranee,  with  no  such  compunctions, 
became  the  spokesman,  a  grimace  of  pleasure  spread- 
ing over  his  countenance  as  he  thought  of  the  un- 
pleasant surprise  he  was  about  to  impart.  Stretching 
out  his  stiffened  fingers  over  the  blaze,  he  said  in  his 
most  brutal  tones : 

"  Your  polkying  friend  is  none  other  than  Ra- 
merrez." 

The  Girl's  eyes  opened  wide,  but  they  did  not  look 
at  the  Sheriff.  They  looked  straight  before  her. 

"  I  warned  you,  girl,"  spoke  up  Ashby,  "  that  you 
should  bank  with  us  oftener." 

The  Girl  gave  no  sign  of  having  heard  him.  Her 
slender  figure  seemed  to  have  shrunken  perceptibly 
as  she  stared  stupidly,  uncomprehendingly,  into  space. 

"  We  say  that  Johnson  was  — "  repeated  Ranee, 
impatiently. 

" —  what?  "  fell  from  the  Girl's  lips,  her  face  pale 
and  set. 

"  Are  you  deaf?"  demanded  Ranee;  and  then, 
emphasising  every  word,  he  rasped  out:  "  The  fel- 


236      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

low  you've  been  polkying  with  is  the  man  that  has 
been  asking  people  to  hold  up  their  hands." 

"Oh,  go  on  —  you  can't  hand  me  out  that!" 
Nevertheless  the  Girl  looked  wildly  about  the  room. 

Angrily  Ranee  strode  over  to  her  and  sneered 
bitingly : 

"  You  don't  believe  it  yet,  eh?  " 

"  No,  I  don't  believe  it  yet !  "  rapped  out  the  Girl, 
laying  great  stress  upon  the  last  word.  "  I  know  he 
isn't." 

"  Well,  he  is  Ramerrez,  and  he  did  come  to  The 
Polka  to  rob  it,"  retorted  the  Sheriff. 

All  at  once  the  note  of  resentment  in  the  Girl's 
voice  became  positive ;  she  flared  back  at  him,  though 
she  flushed  in  spite  of  herself. 

"But  he  didn't  rob  h!" 

"  That's  what  gits  me,"  fretted  Sonora.  "  He 
didn't." 

"  I  should  think  it  would  git  you,"  snapped  back 
the  Girl,  both  in  her  look  and  voice  rebuking  him 
for  his  words. 

It  was  left  to  Ashby  to  spring  another  surprise. 

"  We've  got  his  horse,"  he  said  pointedly. 

"  An'  I  never  knowed  one  o'  these  men  to  separate 
from  his  horse,"  commented  Sonora,  still  smarting 
under  the  Girl's  reprimand. 

"  Right  you  are !  And  now  that  we've  got  his 
horse  and  this  storm  is  on,  we've  got  him,"  said 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      237 

Ranee,  triumphantly.  "  But  the  last  seen  of  John- 
son," he  went  on  with  a  hasty  movement  towards 
the  Girl  and  eyeing  her  critically,  "  he  was  heading 
this  way.  You  seen  anything  of  him  ?" 

The  Girl  struggled  hard  to  appear  composed. 

"  Heading  this  way?  "  she  inquired,  reddening. 

"  So  Nick  said,"  declared  Sonora,  looking  towards 
that  individual  for  proof  of  his  words. 

But  Nick  had  caught  the  Girl's  lightning  glance 
imposing  silence  upon  him ;  in  some  embarrassment 
he  stammered  out : 

"  That  is,  he  was  —  Sid  said  he  saw  'im  take  the 
trail,  too." 

"  But  the  trail  ends  here,"  pointed  out  Ranee,  at 
the  same  time  looking  hard  at  the  Girl.  And  if  she 
hasn't  seen  him,  where  was  he  going?  " 

At  this  juncture  Nick  espied  a  cigar  butt  on  the 
floor ;  unseen  by  the  others,  he  hurriedly  picked  it  up 
and  threw  it  in  the  fire. 

"  One  o'  our  dollar  Havanas !  Good  Lord,  he's 
here !  "  he  muttered  to  himself. 

"  Ranee  is  right.  Where  was  he  goin'?  "  was  the 
question  with  which  he  was  confronted  by  Sonora 
when  about  to  return  to  the  others. 

"  Well,  I  tho't  I  seen  him,"  evaded  Nick  with 
considerable  uneasiness.  "  I  couldn't  swear  to  it. 
You  see  it  was  dark,  an' —  Moses  but  the  Sidney 
Duck's  a  liar!" 


23 8      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

At  length,  Ashby  decided  that  the  man  had  in  all 
probability  been  snowed  under,  ending  confidently 
with: 

"  Something  scared  him  off  and  he  lit  out  without 
his  horse."  Which  remark  brought  temporary  re- 
lief to  the  Girl,  for  Nick,  watching  her,  saw  the  col- 
our return  to  her  face. 

Unconsciously,  during  this  discussion,  the  Girl  had 
risen  to  her  feet,  but  only  to  fall  back  in  her  chair 
again  almost  as  suddenly,  a  sign  of  nervousness  which 
did  not  escape  the  sharp  eye  of  the  Sheriff. 

"How  do  you  know  the  man's  a  road  agent?" 
A  shade  almost  of  contempt  was  in  the  Girl's  ques- 
tion. 

Sonora  breathed  on  his  badly  nipped  fingers  be- 
fore answering: 

"  Well,  two  greasers  jest  now  were  pretty  positive 
before  they  quit." 

Instantly  the  Girl's  head  went  up  in  the  air. 

"  Greasers!  "  she  ejaculated  scornfully,  while  her 
eyes  unfalteringly  met  Ranee's  steady  gaze. 

"  But  the  woman  knew  him,"  was  the  Sheriff's  vin- 
dictive thrust. 

The  Girl  started;  her  face  went  white. 

"  The  woman  —  the  woman  d'you  say?  " 

"  Why,  yes,  it  was  a  woman  that  first  tol'  them 
that  Ramerrez  was  in  the  camp  to  rob  The  Polka," 
Sonora  informed  her,  though  his  tone  showed  plainly 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      239 

his  surprise  at  being  compelled  to  repeat  a  thing 
which,  he  wrongly  believed,  she  already  knew. 

"  We  saw  her  at  The  Palmetto,"  leered  Rancc. 

"  And  we  missed  the  reward,"  frowned  Ashby;  at 
which  Ranee  quickly  turned  upon  the  speaker  with: 

"  But  Ramerrez  is  trapped." 

There  was  a  moment's  startled  pause  in  which  the 
Girl  struggled  with  her  passions;  at  last,  she  ven- 
tured : 

"Who's  this  woman?" 

The  Sheriff  laughed  discordantly. 

"  Why,  the  woman  of  the  back  trail,"  he  sneered. 

"  Nina  Micheltorefia !  Then  she  does  know  'im 
• —  it's  true  —  it  goes  through  me !  "  unwittingly 
burst  from  the  Girl's  lips. 

The  Sheriff,  evidently,  found  the  situation  amus- 
ing, for  he  laughed  outright. 

"  He's  the  sort  of  a  man  who  polkas  with  you  first 
and  then  cuts  your  throat,"  was  his  next  stab. 

The  Girl  turned  upon  him  with  eyes  flashing  and 
retorted : 

"  Well,  it's  my  throat,  ain't  it?  " 

"Well  I'll  be!—"  The  Sheriff's  sentence  was 
left  unfinished,  for  Nick,  quickly  pulling  him  to  one 
side,  whispered: 

"  Say,  Ranee,  the  Girl's  cut  up  because  she  vouched 
for  'im.  Don't  rub  it  in." 

Notwithstanding,   Ranee,  to  the  Girl's  query  of 


240      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

"  How  did  this  Nina  Micheltorena  know  it?  "  took 
a  keen  delight  in  telling  her : 

"  She's  his  girl." 

"His  girl?"  repeated  the  Girl,  mechanically. 

"  Yes.  She  gave  us  his  picture,"  went  on  Ranee; 
and  taking  the  photograph  out  of  his  pocket,  he 
added  maliciously,  "  with  love  written  on  the  back 
of  it." 

A  glance  at  the  photograph,  which  she  fairly 
snatched  out  of  his  hands,  convinced  the  Girl  of  the 
truthfulness  of  his  assertion.  With  a  movement  of 
pain  she  threw  it  upon  the  floor,  crying  out  bitterly: 

"  Nina  Micheltorena !  Nina  Micheltorena !  " 
Turning  to  Ashby  with  an  abrupt  change  of  manner 
she  said  contritely :  "  I'm  sorry,  Mr.  Ashby,  I 
vouched  for  'im." 

The  Wells  Fargo  Agent  softened  at  the  note  in 
the  Girl's  voice;  he  was  about  to  utter  some  comfort- 
ing words  to  her  when  suddenly  she  spoke  again. 

"  I  s'pose  they  had  one  o'  them  little  lovers'  quar- 
rels an'  that  made  'er  tell  you,  eh?"  She  laughed 
a  forced  little  laugh,  though  her  heart  was  beating 
strangely  as  she  kept  on :  "  He's  the  kind  o'  man 
who  sort  o'  polkas  with  every  girl  he  meets."  And 
at  this  she  began  to  laugh  almost  hysterically. 

Ranee,  who  resented  her  apologising  to  anyone 
but  himself,  stood  scowling  at  her. 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      241 

"What  are  you  laughing  at?"  he  questioned. 

"Oh,  nothin',  Jack,  nothin1,"  half-cried,  half- 
laughed  the  Girl.  "  Only  it's  kind  o'  funny  how 
things  come  out,  ain't  it?  Took  in!  Nina  Michel- 
torena!  Nice  company  he  keeps  —  one  o'  them 
Cachuca  girls  with  eyelashes  at  half-mast!  " 

Once  more  she  broke  out  into  a  fit  of  laughter. 

"  Well,  well,"  she  resumed,  "  an'  she  sold  'im 
out  for  money!  Ah,  Jack  Ranee,  you're  a  better 
guesser'n  I  am !  "  And  with  these  words  she  sank 
down  at  the  table  in  an  apathy  of  misery.  Horror 
and  hatred  and  hopelessness  had  possession  of  her. 
A  fierce  look  was  in  her  eyes  when  a  moment  later 
she  raised  her  head  and  abruptly  dismissed  the  boys, 
saying : 

"  Well,  boys,   it's  gittin'  late  —  good-night  I  " 

Sonora  was  the  first  to  make  a  movement  towards 
the  door. 

"  Come  on,  boys,"  he  growled  in  his  deep  bass 
voice;  "  don't  you  intend  to  let  a  lady  go  to  bed?  " 

One  by  one  the  men  filed  through  the  door  which 
Nick  held  open  for  them;  but  when  all  but  himself 
had  left,  the  devoted  little  barkeeper  turned  to  the 
Girl  with  a  look  full  of  meaning,  and  whispered : 

"  Do  you  want  me  to  stay?  " 

"Me?  Oh,  no,  Nick!"  And  with  a  "Good- 
night, all !  Good-night,  Sonora,  an'  thank  you ! 


242      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

Good-night,  Nick  1  "  the  Girl  closed  the  door  upon 
them.  The  last  that  she  heard  from  them  was  the 
muffled  ejaculation: 

"  Oh,  Lordy,  we'll  never  git  down  to  Cloudy  to- 
night 1  " 

Now  the  Girl  slid  the  bolts  and  stood  with  her 
back  against  the  door  as  if  to  take  extra  precautions 
to  bar  out  any  intrusion,  and  with  eyes  that  blazed 
she  yelled  out : 

"  Come  out  o'  that,  now  1  Step  out  there,  Mr. 
Johnson !  " 

Slowly  the  road  agent  parted  the  curtains  and 
came  forward  in  an  attitude  of  dejection. 

"  You  came  here  to  rob  me,"  at  once  began  tha 
Girl,  but  her  anger  made  it  impossible  for  her  fc? 
continue. 

"  I  didn't,"  denied  the  road  agent,  quietly,  his 
countenance  reflecting  how  deeply  hurt  he  was  by 
her  words. 

"  You  lie !  "  insisted  the  Girl,  beside  hersehr  \  nth 
rage. 

"I  don't—" 

"Youdol" 

"  I  admit  that  every  circumstance  points  to  — M 

"Stop!  Don't  you  give  me  any  more  o'  that 
Webster  Unabridged.  You  git  to  cases.  If  you 
didn't  come  here  to  steal  you  came  to  The  Polka  to 
rob  it,  didn't  you?" 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      243 

Johnson,  his  eyes  lowered,  was  forced  to  admit 
that  such  were  his  intentions,  adding  swiftly : 

"  But  when  I  knew  about  you  — "  He  broke  off 
and  took  a  step  towards  her. 

"Wait!  Wait!  Wait  where  you  are!  Don't 
you  take  a  step  further  or  I'll — "  She  made  a 
significant  gesture  towards  her  bosom,  and  then, 
laughing  harshly,  went  on  denouncingly:  u  A  road 
agent!  A  road  agent!  Well,  ain't  it  my  luck! 
Wouldn't  anybody  know  to  look  at  me  that  a  gentle- 
man wouldn't  fall  my  way!  A  road  agent!  A 
road  agent !  "  And  again  she  laughed  bitterly  be- 
fore going  on:  "  But  now  you  can  git  —  git,  you 
thief,  you  imposer  on  a  decent  woman !  I  ought  to 
have  tol1  'em  all,  but  I  wa'n't  goin'  to  be  the  joke  o' 
the  world  with  you  behind  the  curtains  an'  me 
eatin'  charlotte  rusks  an'  lemming  turnovers  an' 
a-polkyin'  with  a  road  agent !  But  now  you  can  git 
—  git,  do  you  hear  me?  " 

Johnson  heard  her  to  the  end  with  bowed  head; 
and  so  scathing  had  been  her  denunciations  of  his 
actions  that  the  fact  that  pride  alone  kept  her  from 
breaking  down  completely  escaped  his  notice.  With 
his  eyes  still  downcast  he  said  in  painful  fragments : 

"  One  word  only  —  only  a  word  and  I'm  not 
going  to  say  anything  in  defence  of  myself.  For 
it's  all  true  —  everything  is  true  except  that  I  would 
have  stolen  from  you.  I  am  called  Ramerrez;  I 


244      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

have  robbed ;  I  am  a  road  agent  —  an  outlaw  by 
profession.  Yes,  I'm  all  that  —  and  my  father  was 
that  before  me.  I  was  brought  up,  educated, 
thrived  on  thieves'  money,  I  suppose,  but  until  six 
months  ago  when  my  father  died,  I  did  not  know 
it.  I  lived  much  in  Monterey  —  I  lived  there  as  a 
gentleman.  When  we  met  that  day  I  wasn't  the 
thing  I  am  to-day.  I  only  learned  the  truth  when 
my  father  died  and  left  me  with  a  rancho  and  a 
band  of  thieves  —  nothing  else  —  nothing  for  us 
all,  and  I  —  but  what's  the  good  of  going  into  it 
—  the  circumstances.  You  wouldn't  understand  if 
I  did.  I  was  my  father's  son;  I  have  no  excuse;  I 
guess,  perhaps,  it  was  in  me  —  in  the  blood.  Any- 
how, I  took  to  the  road,  and  I  didn't  mind  it 
much  after  the  first  time.  But  I  drew  the  line  at 
killing  —  I  wouldn't  have  that.  That's  the  man 
that  I  am,  the  blackguard  that  I  am.  But  — "  here 
he  raised  his  eyes  and  said  with  a  voice  that  was 
charged  with  feeling  — "  I  swear  to  you  that  from  the 
moment  I  kissed  you  to-night  I  meant  to  change,  I 
meant  to  — " 

"  The  devil  you  did  I  "  broke  from  the  Girl's  lips, 
out  with  a  sound  that  was  not  unlike  a  sob. 

"  I  did,  believe  me,  I  did,"  insisted  the  man.  "  I 
meant  to  go  straight  and  take  you  with  me  —  but 
only  honestly  —  when  I  could  honestly.  I  meant  to 
work  for  you.  Why,  every  word  you  said  to  me 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      245 

to-night  about  being  a  thief  cut  into  me  like  a  knife. 
Over  and  over  again  I  have  said  to  myself,  she  must 
never  know.  And  now  —  well,  it's  all  over  —  1 
have  finished." 

"An'  that's  all?"  questioned  the  Girl  with 
averted  face. 

"No  —  yes  —  what's  the  use     .     .     .?" 

The  Girl's  anger  blazed  forth  again. 

"  But  there's  jest  one  thing  you've  overlooked  ex- 
plainin',  Mr.  Johnson.  It  shows  exactly  what  you 
are.  It  wasn't  so  much  your  bein'  a  road  agent 
I  got  against  you.  It's  this : "  And  here  she 
stamped  her  foot  excitedly.  "  You  kissed  me  —  you 
got  my  first  kiss." 

Johnson  hung  his  head. 

"  You  said,"  kept  on  the  Girl,  hotly,  "  you'd  ben 
thinkin'  o'  me  ever  since  you  saw  me  at  Monterey, 
an'  all  the  time  you  walked  straight  off  an'  ben 
kissin'  that  other  woman."  She  shrugged  her  shoul- 
der and  laughed  grimly.  "  You've  got  a  girl,"  she 
continued,  growing  more  and  more  indignant. 
"  It's  that  I've  got  against  you.  It's  my  first  kiss 
I've  got  against  you.  It's  that  Nina  Micheltorena 
that  I  can't  forgive.  So  now  you  can  git  —  git!  " 
And  with  these  words  she  unbolted  the  door  and  con- 
cluded tensely : 

"If  they  kill  you  I  don't  care.  Do  you  hear,  I 
don't  care.  ." 


246     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

At  those  bitter  words  spoken  by  lips  which  failed 
so  utterly  to  hide  their  misery,  the  Girl's  face  became 
colourless. 

With  the  instinct  of  a  brave  man  to  sell  his  life 
as  dearly  as  possible,  Johnson  took  a  couple  of  guns 
from  his  pocket;  but  the  next  moment,  as  if  coming 
to  the  conclusion  that  death  without  the  Girl  would 
be  preferable,  he  put  them  back,  saying: 

"  You're  right,  Girl." 

The  next  instant  he  had  passed  out  of  the  door 
which  she  held  wide  open  for  him. 

"  That's  the  end  o'  that  —  that's  the  end  o'  that," 
she  wound  up,  slamming  the  door  after  him.  But 
all  the  way  from  the  threshold  to  the  bureau  she  kept 
murmuring  to  herself:  "  I  don't  care,  I  don't  care. 
.  .  .  I'll  be  like  the  rest  o'  the  women  I've  seen. 
I'll  give  that  Nina  Micheltorena  cards  an'  spades. 
There'll  be  another  hussy  around  here.  There'll 
be  — "  The  threat  was  never  finished.  Instead, 
with  eyes  that  fairly  started  out  of  their  sockets,  she 
listened  to  the  sound  of  a  couple  of  shots,  the  last  one 
exploding  so  loud  and  distinct  that  there  was  no  mis- 
taking its  nearness  to  the  cabin. 

"They've  got  'im !  "  she  cried.  "Well,  I  don't 
care  —  I  don't — "  But  again  she  did  not  finish 
what  she  intended  to  say.  For  at  the  sound  of  a 
heavy  body  falling  against  the  cabin  door  she  flew 
to  it,  opened  it  and,  throwing  her  arms  about  the 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      247 

sorely-wounded  man,  dragged  him  into  the  cabin  and 
placed  him  in  a  chair.  Quick  as  lightning  she  was 
back  at  the  door  bolting  it. 

With  his  eyes  Johnson  followed  her  action. 

"  Don't  lock  that  door  —  I'm  going  out  again  — 
out  there.  Don't  bar  that  door,"  he  commanded 
feebly,  struggling  to  his  feet  and  attempting  to  walk 
towards  it;  but  he  lurched  forward  and  would  have 
fallen  to  the  floor  had  she  not  caught  him.  Vainly 
he  strove  to  break  away  from  her,  all  the  time  cry- 
ing out:  "Don't  you  see,  don't  you  see,  Girl  — 
open  the  door."  And  then  again  with  almost  a 
sob :  "  Do  you  think  me  a  man  to  hide  behind  a 
woman?  "  He  would  have  collapsed  except  for  the 
strong  arms  that  held  him. 

"  I  love  you  an'  I'm  goin'  to  save  you,"  the  Girl 
murmured  while  struggling  with  him.  "  You  asked 
me  to  go  away  with  you;  I  will  when  you  git  out  o' 
this.  If  you  can't  save  your  own  soul — "  She 
stopped  and  quickly  went  over  to  the  mantel  where 
she  took  down  a  bottle  of  whisky  and  a  glass;  but 
in  the  act  of  pouring  out  a  drink  for  him  there  came 
a  loud  rap  on  the  window,  and  quickly  looking 
round  she  saw  Ranee's  piercing  eyes  peering  into  the 
room.  For  an  instant  she  paled,  but  then  there 
flashed  through  her  mind  the  comforting  thought  that 
the  Sheriff  could  not  possibly  see  Johnson  from  his 
position.  So,  after  giving  the  latter  his  drink,  she 


248      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

waited  quietly  until  a  rap  at  the  door  told  her  that 
Ranee  had  left  the  window  when,  her  eye  having  lit 
on  the  ladder  that  was  held  in  place  on  the  ceiling, 
she  quickly  ran  over  to  it  and  let  it  down,  saying: 

"  Go  up  the  ladder !  Climb  up  there  to  the  loft  * 
You're  the  man  that's  got  my  first  kiss  an'  I'm  goin' 
to  save  you.  .  .  ." 

"  Oh,  no,  not  here,"  protested  Johnson,  stub- 
bornly. 

"  Do  you  want  them  to  see  you  in  my  cabin?  "  she 
cried  reproachfully,  trying  to  lift  him  to  his  feet. 

"  Oh,  hurry,  hurry     .     .     . !  " 

With  the  utmost  difficulty  Johnson  rose  to  his  feet 
and  catching  the  rounds  of  the  ladder  he  began  to 
ascend.  But  after  going  up  a  few  rounds  he  reeled 
and  almost  fell  off,  gasping : 

"  I  can't  make  it  —  no,  I  can't.     .     .     ." 

"  Yes,  you  can,"  encouraged  the  Girl ;  and  then, 
simultaneously  with  another  loud  knock  on  the  door : 
"  You're  the  man  I  love  an'  you  must  —  you've  got 
to  show  me  the  man  that's  in  you.  Oh,  go  on,  go 
on,  jest  a  step  an'  you'll  git  there." 

"  But  I  can't,"  came  feebly  from  the  voice  above. 
Nevertheless,  the  next  instant  he  fell  full  length  on 
the  boarded  floor  of  the  loft  with  the  hand  out- 
stretched in  which  was  the  handkerchief  he  had  been 
staunching  the  blood  from  the  wound  in  his  side. 

With  a  whispered  injunction  that  he  was  all  right 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      249 

and  was  not  to  move  on  any  account,  the  Girl  put  the 
ladder  back  in  its  place.  But  no  sooner  was  this  done 
than  on  looking  up  she  caught  sight  of  the  stained 
handkerchief.  She  called  softly  up  to  him  to  take  it 
away,  explaining  that  the  cracks  between  the  boards 
were  wide  and  it  could  plainly  be  seen  from  below. 

"  That's  it!  "  she  exclaimed  on  observing  that  he 
had  changed  the  position  of  his  hand.  "  Now,  don't 
move !  " 

Finally,  with  the  lighted  candle  in  her  hand,  the 
Girl  made  a  quick  survey  of  the  room  to  see  that 
nothing  was  in  sight  that  would  betray  her  lover's 
presence  there,  and  then  throwing  open  the  door  she 
took  up  such  a  position  by  it  that  it  made  it  im- 
possible for  anyone  to  get  past  her  without  using 
force. 

"  You  can't  come  in  here,  Jack  Ranee,"  she  said 
in  a  resolute  voice.  "  You  can  tell  me  what  you 
want  from  where  you  are." 

Roughly,  almost  brutally,  Ranee  shoved  her  to  one 
side  and  entered. 

**  No  more  Jack  Ranee.  It's  the  Sheriff  coming 
after  Mr.  Johnson,"  he  said,  emphasizing  each  word. 

The  Girl  eyed  him  defiantly. 

"  Yes,  I  said  Mr.  Johnson,"  reiterated  the  Sheriff, 
cocking  the  gun  that  he  held  in  his  hand.  "  I  saw 
him  coming  in  here." 

"  It's  more  'n  I  did,"  returned  the  Girl,  evenly, 


250     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

and  bolted  the  door.  "  Do  you  think  I'd  want  to 
shield  a  man  who  tried  to  rob  me?  "  she  asked,  fac- 
ing him. 

Ignoring  the  question,  Ranee  removed  the  glove  of 
his  weaponless  hand  and  strode  to  the  curtains  that 
enclosed  the  Girl's  bed  and  parted  them.  When  he 
turned  back  he  was  met  by  a  scornful  look  and  the 
words : 

"  So,  you  doubt  me,  do  you  ?  Well,  go  on  — 
search  the  place.  But  this  ends  your  acquaintance 
with  The  Polka.  Don't  you  ever  speak  to  me  again. 
We're  through." 

Suddenly  there  came  a  smothered  groan  from  the 
man  in  the  loft;  Ranee  wheeled  round  quickly  and 
brought  up  his  gun,  demanding: 

"What's  that?     What's  that?" 

Leaning  against  the  bureau  the  Girl  laughed  out- 
right and  declared  that  the  Sheriff  was  becoming  as 
nervous  as  an  old  woman.  Her  ridicule  was  not 
without  its  effect,  and,  presently,  Ranee  uncocked  his 
gun  and  replaced  it  in  its  holster.  Advancing  now 
to  the  table  where  the  Girl  was  standing,  he  took  off 
his  cap  and  shook  it  before  laying  it  down;  then, 
pointing  to  the  door,  his  eyes  never  leaving  the  Girl's 
face,  he  went  on  accusingly : 

"  I  saw  someone  standing  out  there  against  the 
*now.  I  fired.  I  could  have  sworn  it  was  a  man." 

The   Girl   winced.     But   as   she   stood   watching 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      251 

him  calmly  remove  his  coat  and  shake  it  with  the  air 
of  one  determined  to  make  himself  at  home,  she 
cried  out  tauntingly: 

"Why  do  you  stop?  Why  don't  you  go  on  — 
finish  your  search  —  only  don't  ever  speak  to  me 
again." 

At  that,  Ranee  became  conciliatory. 

"  Say,  Min,  I  don't  want  to  quarrel  with  you." 

Turning  her  back  on  him  the  Girl  moved  over 
to  the  bureau  where  she  snapped  out  over  her 
shoulder: 

"  Go  on  with  your  search,  then  pYaps  you'll  leave 
a  lady  to  herself  to  go  to  bed." 

The  Sheriff  followed  her  up  with  the  declaration: 
"  I'm  plumb  crazy  about  you,  Min." 

The  Girl  shrugged  her  shoulder. 

"  I  could  have  sworn  I  saw  —  I  —  Oh,  you  know 
it's  just  you  for  me  —  just  you,  and  curse  the  man 
you  like  better.  I  —  I  —  even  yet  I  can't  get  over 
the  queer  look  in  your  face  when  I  told  you  who  that 
man  really  was."  He  stopped  and  flung  his  over- 
coat down  on  the  floor,  and  fixing  her  with  a  look  he 
demanded:  "  You  don't  love  him,  do  you?  " 

Again  the  Girl  sent  over  her  shoulder  a  forced 
little  laugh. 

"Who  — me?" 

The  Sheriff's  face  brightened.  Taking  a  few 
steps  nearer  to  her,  he  hazarded: 


252      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

"  Say,  Girl,  was  your  answer  final  to-night  about 
marrying  me?  " 

Without  turning  round  the  Girl  answered  coyly: 

"  I  might  think  it  over,  Jack." 

Instantly  the  man's  passion  was  aroused.  He 
strode  over  to  her,  put  his  arms  around  her  and 
kissed  her  forcibly. 

"  I  love  you,  I  love  you,  Minnie !  "  he  cried 
passionately. 

In  the  struggle  that  followed,  the  Girl's  eyes  fell 
on  the  bottle  on  the  mantel.  With  a  cry  she  seized 
it  and  raised  it  threateningly  over  her  head.  An- 
other second,  however,  she  sank  down  upon  a  chair 
and  began  to  sob,  her  face  buried  in  her  hands. 

Ranee  regarded  her  coldly:  at  Jast  he  gave  vent 
to  a  mirthless  laugh,  the  nasty  laugh  of  a  man  whose 
vanity  is  hurt. 

"  So,  it's  as  bad  as  that,"  he  sneered.  "  I  didn't 
quite  realise  it.  I'm  much  obliged  to  you.  Good- 
night." He  snatched  up  his  coat,  hesitated,  then 
repeated  a  little  less  angrily  than  before :  "  Good- 
night!" 

But  the  Girl,  with  her  face  still  hidden,  made  no 
answer.  For  a  moment  he  watched  the  crouching 
form,  the  quivering  shoulders,  then  asked,  witn 
sudden  and  unwonted  gentleness : 

"  Can't  you  say  good-night  to  me,  Girl !  " 

Slowly  the  Girl  rose  to  her  feet  and  faced  him, 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      253 

aversion  and  pity  struggling  for  mastery.  Then,  as 
she  noted  the  spot  where  he  was  now  standing,  his 
great  height  bringing  him  so  near  to  the  low  boards 
of  the  loft  where  her  lover  was  lying  that  it  seemed 
as  though  he  must  hear  the  wounded  man's  breath- 
ing, all  other  feelings  were  swept  away  by  over- 
whelming fear.  With  the  one  thought  that  she 
must  get  rid  of  him, —  do  anything,  say  anything,  but 
get  rid  of  him  quickly,  she  forced  herself  forward, 
with  extended  hand,  and  said  in  a  voice  that  held 
out  new  promise : 

"  Good-night.  Jack  Ranee, —  good-night !  " 

Ranee  seized  the  hand  with  an  almost  fierce  glad- 
ness in  both  his  own,  his  keen  glance  hungrily  striv- 
ing to  read  her  face.  Then,  suddenly,  he  released 
her,  drawing  back  his  hand  with  a  quick  sharpness. 

"  Why,  look  at  my  hand !  There's  blood  on  it !  " 
he  said. 

And  even  as  he  spoke,  under  the  yellow  flare  of 
the  lamp,  the  Girl  saw  a  second  drop  of  blood  fall 
at  her  feet.  Like  a  flash,  the  terrible  significance  of 
it  came  upon  her.  Only  by  self-violence  could  she 
keep  her  glance  from  rising,  tell-tale,  to  the  boards 
above. 

"  Oh,  I'm  so  sorry,"  she  heard  herself  saying  con- 
tritely, all  the  time  desperately  groping  to  invent 
a  reason;  at  length,  she  added  futilely:  "I  must 
have  scratched  you." 


254     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

Ranee  looked  puzzled,  staring  at  the  spatter  of 
red  as  though  hypnotised. 

"  No,  there's  no  scratch  there,"  he  contended, 
wiping  off  the  blood  with  his  handkerchief. 

"  Oh,  yes,  there  is,"  insisted  the  Girl  tremulously; 
"  that  is,  there  will  be  in  the  mornin'.  You'll  see 
in  the  mornin'  that  there'll  be  — "  She  stopped  and 
stared  in  frozen  terror  at  the  sinister  face  of  the 
Sheriff,  who  was  coolly  watching  his  handkerchief 
turn  from  white  to  red  under  the  slow  rain  of  blood 
from  the  loft  above. 

"Oho!"  he  emitted  sardonically,  stepping  back 
and  pointing  his  gun  towards  the  loft.  "  So,  he's 
up  there !  " 

The  Girl's  fingers  clutched  his  arm,  dragging  des- 
perately. 

"  No,  he  isn't,  Jack  —  no,  he  isn't!  "  she  iterated 
in  blind,  mechanical  denial. 

With  an  abrupt  movement,  Ranee  flung  her 
violently  from  him,  made  a  grab  at  the  suspended 
ladder  and  lowered  it  into  position;  then,  deaf  to  the 
Girl's  pleadings,  harshly  ordered  Johnson  to  come 
down,  meanwhile  covering  the  source  of  the  blood- 
drops  with  his  gun. 

"  Oh,  wait, —  wait  a  minute !  "  begged  the  Girl 
helplessly.  What  would  happen  if  he  couldn't  obey 
the  summons?  He  had  spent  himself  in  his  climb 
to  safety.  Perhaps  he  was  unconscious,  slowly  bleed- 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      255 

ing  to  death !  But  even  as  she  tortured  herself  with 
fears,  the  boards  above  creaked  as  though  a  heavy 
body  was  dragging  itself  slowly  across  them.  John- 
son was  evidently  doing  his  best  to  reach  the  top 
of  the  ladder;  but  he  did  not  move  quickly  enough 
to  suit  the  Sheriff. 

"Comedown,  or  I'll— " 

"  Oh,  just  a  minute,  Jack,  just  a  minute !  "  broke 
in  the  Girl  frantically.  "  Don't  shoot  I  —  Don't 
you  see  he's  tryin'  to  —  ?  " 

"  Come  down  here,  Mr.  Johnson !  "  reiterated  the 
Sheriff,  with  a  face  inhuman  as  a  fiend. 

The  Girl  clenched  her  hands,  heedless  of  the  nails 
cutting  into  her  palms :  "  Won't  you  wait  a  mo- 
ment,—  please,  wait,  Jack  I  " 

"Wait?  What  for?"  the  Sheriff  flung  at  her 
brutally,  his  finger  twitching  on  the  trigger. 

The  Girl's  lips  parted  to  answer,  then  closed  again 
dumbly, —  for  it  was  then  that  she  saw  the  boots, 
then  the  legs  of  the  road  agent  slide  uncertainly 
through  the  open  trap,  fumble  clumsily  for  the  rungs 
of  the  ladder,  then  slip  and  stumble  as  the  weight  of 
the  following  body  came  upon  them  while  the  weak 
fingers  strained  desperately  for  a  hold.  The  whole 
heart  and  soul  and  mind  of  the  Girl  seemed  to  be 
reaching  out  impotently  to  give  her  lover  strength,  to 
hurry  him  down  fast  enough  to  forestall  a  shot  from 
the  Sheriff.  It  seemed  hours  until  the  road  agent 


256      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

reached  the  bottom  of  the  ladder,  then  lurched  with 
unseeing  eyes  to  a  chair  and,  finally,  fell  forward 
limply,  with  his  arms  and  head  resting  on  the  table. 
Still  dumb  with  dread,  the  Girl  watched  Ranee 
slowly  circle  round  the  wounded  man ;  it  was  not  until 
the  Sheriff  returned  his  pistol  to  its  holster  that  she 
breathed  freely  again. 

"  So,  you  dropped  into  The  Polka  to-night  to  play 
a  little  game  of  poker?  Funny  how  things  change 
about  in  an  hour  or  two !  "  Ranee  chuckled  mirth- 
lessly; it  seemed  to  suit  his  sardonic  humour  to  taunt 
his  helpless  rival.  "  You  think  you  can  play  poker, 
—  that's  your  conviction,  is  it  ?  Well,  you  can  play 
freeze-out  as  to  your  chances,  Mr.  Johnson  of  Sacra- 
mento. Come,  speak  up, —  it's  shooting  or  the 
tree, —  which  shall  it  be?" 

Goaded  beyond  endurance  by  Ranee's  taunting  of 
the  unconscious  man,  the  Girl,  fumbling  in  her  bosom 
for  her  pistol,  turned  upon  him  in  a  sudden,  cold 
fury: 

"  You  better  stop  that  laughin',  Jack  Ranee,  or 
I'll  send  you  to  finish  it  in  some  place  where  things 
ain't  so  funny." 

Something  in  the  Girl's  altered  tone  so  struck  the 
Sheriff  that  he  obeyed  her.  He  said  nothing,  but  on 
his  lips  were  the  words,  "  By  Heaven,  the  Girl 
means  it !  "  and  his  eyes  showed  a  smouldering  ad- 
miration. 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      257 

"  He  doesn't  hear  you, —  he's  out  of  it.     But  me 

—  me  —  I  hear  you  —  I  ain't  out  of  it,"  the  Girl 
went  on  in  compelling  tones.     "  You're  a  gambler ; 
he  was,  too;  well,  so  am  I."     She  crossed  deliberately 
to  the  bureau,  and  laid  her  pistol  away  in  the  drawer, 
Ranee  meanwhile  eyeing  her  with  puzzled  interest. 
Returning,  she  went  on,  incisively  as  a  whip  lash: 
"  I  live  on  chance  money,  drink  money,  card  money, 
saloon  money.     We're  gamblers, —  we're  all  gam- 
blers !  "     She  paused,  an  odd  expression  coming  over 
her  face, —  an  expression  that  baffled  Ranee's  power 
to  read.     Presently  she  resumed :     "  Now,  you  asked 
me  to-night  if  my  answer  was  final, —  well,  here's 
your   chance.     I'll   play   you    the    game, —  straight 
poker.     It's  two  out  o'  three  for  me.     Hatin'  the 
sight  o'  you,  it's  the  nearest  chance  you'll  ever  get 
for  me." 

"  Do  you  mean  — "  began  Ranee,  his  hands  rest- 
ing on  the  table,  his  hawk-like  glance  burning  into  her 
very  thoughts. 

"Yes,  with  a  wife  in  Noo  Orleans  all  right," 
she  interrupted  him  feverishly.  "If  you're  lucky, 

—  you'll  git  'im  an'  me.     But  if  you  lose, —  this 
man  settin'  between  us  is  mine  —  mine  to  do  with 
as  I  please,  an'  you  shut  up  an'  lose  like  a  gentle- 
man." 

"  You  must  be  crazy  about  him !  "  The  words 
seemed  wrung  from  the  Sheriff  against  his  will. 


258      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

"  That's  my  business!  "  came  like  a  knife-cut  from 
the  Girl. 

"  Do  you  know  you're  talkin'  to  the  Sheriff?  " 

"I'm  talkin'  to  Jack  Ranee,  the  gambler,"  she 
imended  evenly. 

"  You're  right, —  and  he's  just  fool  enough  to 
take  you  up,"  returned  Ranee  with  sudden  decision. 
He  looked  around  him  for  a  chair;  there  was  one 
near  the  table,  and  the  Girl  handed  it  to  him.  With 
one  hand  he  swung  it  into  place  before  the  table, 
while  with  the  other  he  jerked  off  the  table-cover, 
and  flung  it  across  the  room.  Johnson  neither 
moved  nor  groaned,  as  the  edge  slid  from  beneath 
his  nerveless  arms. 

"  You  and  the  cyards  have  got  into  my  blood. 
I'll  take  you  up,"  he  said,  seating  himself. 

"  Your  word,"  demanded  the  Girl,  leaning  over 
the  table,  but  still  standing. 

"  I  can  lose  like  a  gentleman,"  returned  Ranee 
curtly;  then,  with  a  swift  seizure  of  her  hand,  he 
continued  tensely,  in  tones  that  made  the  Girl  shrink 
and  whiten,  "  I'm  hungry  for  you,  Min,  and  if  I 
win,  I'll  take  it  out  on  you  as  long  as  I  have 
breath." 

A  moment  later,  the  Girl  had  freed  her  hand  from 
his  clasp,  and  was  saying  evenly,  "  Fix  the  lamp." 
And  while  the  Sheriff  was  adjusting  the  wick  that 
had  begun  to  flare  up  smokily,  she  swiftly  left  the 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      259 

room,  saying  casually  over  her  shoulder  that  she  was 
going  to  fetch  something  from  the  closet. 

"What  you  goin'  to  get?"  he  called  after  her 
suspiciously.  The  Girl  made  no  reply.  Ranee 
made  no  movement  to  follow  her,  but  instead  drew  a 
pack  of  cards  from  his  pocket  and  began  to  shuffle 
them  with  practiced  carelessness.  But  when  a  minute 
had  passed  and  the  girl  had  not  returned,  he  called 
once  more,  with  growing  impatience,  to  know  what 
Was  keeping  her. 

u  I'm  jest  gettin'  the  cards  an'  kind  o'  steadyin' 
my  nerves,"  she  answered  somewhat  queerly  through 
the  doorway.  The  next  moment  she  had  returned, 
quickly  closing  the  closet  door  behind  her,  blew  out 
her  candle,  and  laying  a  pack  of  cards  upon  the 
table,  said  significantly: 

"  We'll  use  a  fresh  deck.  There's  a  good  deal 
depends  on  this,  Jack."  She  seated  herself  opposite 
the  Sheriff  and  so  close  to  the  unconscious  form  of 
the  man  she  loved  that  from  time  to  time  her  left 
arm  brushed  his  shoulder. 

Ranee,  without  protest  other  than  a  shrug,  took 
up  his  own  deck  of  cards,  wrapped  them  in  a  hand- 
kerchief, and  stowed  them  away  in  his  pocket.  It 
was  the  Girl  who  spoke  first: 

"Are  you  ready?" 

"Ready?     Yes.     I'm  ready.     Cut  for  deal." 

With  unfaltering  fingers,  the  Girl  cut.     Of  the 


26o     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

man  beside  her,  dead  or  dying,  she  must  not,  dared 
not  think.  For  the  moment  she  had  become  one 
incarnate  purpose :  to  win,  to  win  at  any  cost, —  noth- 
ing else  mattered. 

Ranee  won  the  deal;  and  taking  up  the  pack  he 
asked,  as  he  shuffled : 

"  A  case  of  show-down?  " 

"  Show-down." 

"  Cut!  "  once  more  peremptorily  from  Ranee;  and 
then,  when  she  had  cut,  one  question  more :  "  Best 
two  out  of  three?  " 

"  Best  two  out  of  three."  Swift,  staccato  sen- 
tences, like  the  rapid  crossing  of  swords,  the  first 
preliminary  interchange  of  strokes  before  the  true 
duel  begins. 

Ranee  dealt  the  cards.  Before  either  looked  at 
them,  he  glanced  across  at  the  Girl  and  asked  scorn- 
fully, perhaps  enviously : 

"  What  do  you  see  in  him  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  see  in  me?"  she  flashed  back  in- 
stantly, as  she  picked  up  her  cards;  and  then: 
"  What  have  you  got?  " 

"  King  high,"  declared  the  gambler. 

"  King  high  here,"  echoed  the  Girl. 

"  Jack  next,"  and  he  showed  his  hand. 

"  Queen  next,"  and  the  Girl  showed  hers. 

"  You've  got  it,"   conceded  the  gambler,  easily. 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      261 

Then,  in  another  tone,  "  but  you're  making  a  mis- 
take — " 

"  If  I  am,  it's  my  mistake  I     Cut  1  " 

Ranee  cut  the  cards.  The  Girl  dealt  them 
steadily.  Then, 

"  What  have  you  got?  "  she  asked. 

"  One  pair, —  aces.     What  have  you  ?  " 

"  Nothing,"  throwing  her  cards  upon  the  table. 

With  just  a  flicker  of  a  smile,  the  Sheriff  once  more 
gathered  up  the  pack,  saying  smoothly : 

"  Even  now, —  we're  even." 

"  It's  the  next  hand  that  tells,  Jack,  ain't  it?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  It's  the  next  hand  that  tells  me, —  I'm  awfully 
sorry, — "  the  words  seemed  to  come  awkwardly ;  her 
glance  was  troubled,  almost  contrite,  "  at  any  rate, 
I  want  to  say  jest  now  that  no  matter  how  it  comes 
out  — " 

"  Cut!  "  interjected  Ranee  mechanically. 

" —  that  I'll  always  think  of  you  the  best  I  can," 
completed  the  Girl  with  much  feeling.  "  An'  I  want 
you  to  do  the  same  for  me." 

Silently,  inscrutably,  the  gambler  dealt  the  ten 
cards,  one  by  one.  But  as  the  Girl  started  to  draw 
hers  toward  her,  his  long,  thin  fingers  reached  across 
once  more  and  closed  not  ungently  upon  hand  and 
cards. 


262      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

"  The  last  hand,  Girl !  "  he  reminded  her.  "  And 
I've  a  feeling  that  I  win, —  that  in  one  minute  I'll 
hold  you  in  my  arms."  And  still  covering  her 
fingers  with  his  own,  he  stole  a  glance  at  his  cards. 

"  I  win,"  he  announced,  briefly,  his  eyes  alone  be- 
traying the  inward  fever.  He  dropped  the  cards  be- 
fore her  on  the  table.  "  Three  kings, —  and  the 
last  hand!  " 

Suddenly,  as  though  some  inward  cord  had  snapped 
under  the  strain,  the  Girl  collapsed.  Limply  she 
slid  downward  in  her  chair,  one  groping  hand  stray- 
ing aimlessly  to  her  forehead,  then  dropping  of  its 
own  weight.  "  Quick,  Jack, —  I'm  ill, —  git  me 
somethin' !  "  The  voice  trailed  off  to  nothingness 
as  the  drooping  eyelids  closed. 

In  real  consternation,  the  Sheriff  sprang  to  his  feet. 
In  one  sweeping  glance  his  alert  eye  caught  the 
whisky  bottle  upon  the  mantel.  "  All  right,  Girl, 
I'll  fix  you  in  no  time,"  he  said  cheeringly  over  his 
shoulder.  But  where  the  deuce  did  she  keep  her 
tumblers?  The  next  minute  he  was  groping  for  them 
in  the  dark  of  the  adjoining  closet  and  softly  curs- 
ing himself  for  his  own  slowness. 

Instantaneously,  the  Girl  came  to  life.  The  un- 
turned cards  upon  the  table  vanished  with  one  light- 
ning movement;  the  Girl's  hand  disappeared  beneath 
her  skirts,  raised  for  the  moment  knee-high;  then 
the  same,  swift  reverse  motion,  and  the  cards  were 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      263 

back  in  place,  while  the  Girl's  eyes  trembled  shut 
again,  to  hide  the  light  of  triumph  in  them.  A  smile 
flickered  on  her  lips  as  the  Sheriff  returned  with  the 
glass  and  bottle. 

"  Never  mind, —  I'm  better  now,''  her  lips  shaped 
weakly. 

The  Sheriff  set  down  the  bottle,  and  put  his  arm 
around  the  Girl  with  a  rough  tenderness. 

"  Oh,  you  only  fainted  because  you  lost,"  he  told 
her. 

Averting  her  gaze,  the  Girl  quietly  disengaged 
herself,  rose  to  her  feet  and  turned  her  five  cards  face 
upwards. 

"  No,  Jack,  it's  because  I've  won, —  three  aces 
and  a  pair." 

The  Sheriff  shot  one  glance  at  the  girl,  keen, 
searching.  Then,  without  so  much  as  the  twitch 
of  an  eyelid,  he  accepted  his  defeat,  took  a  cigar 
from  his  pocket  and  lit  it,  the  flame  of  the  match 
revealing  no  expression  other  than  the  nonchalance 
for  which  he  was  noted;  then,  picking  up  his  hat  and 
coat  he  walked  slowly  to  the  door.  Here  he  halted 
and  wished  her  a  polite  good-night  —  so  ceremo- 
niously polite  that  at  any  other  time  it  would  have 
compelled  her  admiration. 

Pale  as  death  and  almost  on  the  point  of  collapse, 
the  Girl  staggered  back  to  the  table  where  the 
wounded  road  agent  was  half-sitting,  half-lying. 


264     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

Thrusting  her  hand  now  into  the  stocking  from  which 
she  had  obtained  the  winning,  if  incriminating, 
cards,  she  drew  forth  those  that  remained  and 
scattered  them  in  the  air,  crying  out  hysterically : 

"  Three   aces   an'   a   pair  an'   a   stockin'   full   T 
pictures  —  but  his  life  belongs  to  me  I  " 


XIV 

CONSCIOUS-STRICKEN  at  the  fraud  that  she  had  im- 
posed upon  the  gambler,  the  Girl  lived  a  lifetime  in 
the  moments  that  followed  his  departure.  With  her 
face  buried  in  her  hands  she  stood  lost  in  contem- 
plation of  her  shameful  secret. 

A  sound  —  the  sound  of  a  man  in  great  pain 
checked  her  hysterical  sobs.  Dazed,  she  passed  her 
hand  over  her  face  as  if  to  clear  away  the  dark 
shades  that  were  obstructing  her  vision.  Another 
groan  —  and  like  a  flash  she  was  down  on  her  knees 
lavishing  endearments  upon  the  road  agent. 

Never  before,  it  is  true,  had  the  Girl  had  any 
experience  in  gun-shot  wounds.  She  had  played  the 
part  of  nurse,  however,  more  than  once  when  the 
boys  met  with  accidents  at  the  mines.  For  the 
women  of  the  California  camps  at  that  time  had 
endless  calls  upon  them.  It  was  a  period  for  sacri- 
fices innumerable,  and  help  and  sympathy  were  never 
asked  that  they  were  not  freely  given.  So,  if  the 
Girl  did  not  know  the  very  best  thing  to  do,  she 
knew,  at  least,  what  not  to  do,  and  it  was  only  a  few 
minutes  before  she  had  cut  the  coat  from  his 
back. 

The  next  thing  to  be  done  —  the  dragging  of  the 
unconscious  man  to  the  bed  —  was  hard  work,  of 
26* 


266     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

course,  but  being  strong  of  arm,  as  well  as  stout  of 
heart,  she  at  last  accomplished  it. 

Now  she  cut  away  his  shirt  in  order  to  find  the 
wound,  which  proved  to  be  in  his  breast.  Quickly 
then  she  felt  with  her  fingers  in  an  endeavour  to  find 
the  ball,  but  in  this  she  was  unsuccessful.  So  after 
a  moment's  deliberation  she  made  up  her  mind  that 
the  wound  was  a  flesh  one  and  that  the  ball  was  any- 
where but  in  the  man's  body  —  a  diagnosis  that  was 
largely  due  to  the  cheerful  optimism  of  her  nature 
and  which,  fortunately,  proved  to  be  true. 

Presently  she  went  to  a  corner  of  the  room  and 
soon  returned  with  a  basin  of  water  and  some  hastily 
torn  bandages.  For  a  good  fifteen  minutes  after 
that  she  washed  the  gash  and,  finally,  bandaged  it 
as  well  as  she  knew  how.  And  now,  having  done 
all  that  her  knowledge  or  instinct  prompted,  she 
drew  up  a  chair  and  prepared  to  pass  the  rest  of 
the  night  in  watching  by  his  side. 

For  an  hour  or  so  he  slept  the  sleep  of  unconscious- 
ness. In  the  room  not  a  sound  could  be  heard,  but 
outside  the  storm  still  roared  and  raged.  It  was  any- 
thing but  an  easy  or  cheerful  situation:  Here  she 
was  alone  with  a  wounded,  if  not  dying,  man;  and 
she  well  knew  that,  unless  there  came  an  abatement 
in  the  fury  of  the  storm,  it  might  be  days  before  any- 
one could  climb  the  mountain.  True,  the  Indians 
were  not  far  off,  but  like  as  not  they  would  remain 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      267 

in  their  wigwam  until  the  sun  came  forth  again.  In 
the  matter  of  food  there  was  a  scant  supply,  but 
probably  enough  to  tide  them  over  until  communi- 
cation could  be  had  with  The  Polka. 

For  three  days  she  watched  over  him,  and  all  the 
time  the  storm  continued.  On  the  third  day  he 
became  delirious,  and  that  was  the  night  of  her  tor- 
ture. Despite  a  feeling  that  she  was  taking  an  un- 
fair advantage  of  him,  the  Girl  strained  her  ears 
to  catch  a  name  which,  in  his  delirium,  was  con- 
stantly on  his  lips;  but  she  could  not  make  it  out. 
All  that  she  knew  was  that  it  was  not  her  name  that 
he  spoke,  and  it  pained  her.  She  had  given  him 
absolute  faith  and  trust  and,  already,  she  was  over- 
whelmed with  the  fierce  flames  of  jealousy.  It  was 
a  new  sensation,  this  being  jealous  of  anyone,  and 
it  called  forth  a  passionate  resentment.  In  such  mo- 
ments she  would  rise  and  flee  to  the  other  end  of  the 
room  until  the  whispered  endearments  had  ceased. 
Then  she  would  draw  near  again  with  flushes  of  shame 
on  her  cheeks  for  having  heeded  the  sayings  of  an 
irresponsible  person,  and  she  would  take  his  head 
in  her  lap  and,  caressing  him  the  while,  would  put 
cold  towels  on  his  heated  brow. 

Dawn  of  the  fourth  day  saw  the  Girl  still  pale 
and  anxious,  though  despair  had  entirely  left  her; 
for  the  storm  was  over  and  colour  and  speech  had 
come  back  to  the  man  early  that  morning.  Love 


268      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

and  good  nursing,  not  to  speak  of  some  excellent 
whisky  that  she  happened  to  have  stored  away  in 
her  cabin,  had  pulled  him  through.  With  a  sigh 
of  relief  she  threw  herself  down  on  the  rug  for  a 
much-needed  rest. 

The  man  woke  just  before  the  sun  rose.  His 
first  thought,  that  he  was  home  in  the  foothills,  was 
dissipated  by  the  sight  of  the  snow  ranges.  Through 
the  window  of  the  cabin,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  see, 
nothing  of  green  was  visible.  Snow  was  every- 
where; everything  was  white,  save  at  the  eastern 
horizon  where  silver  was  fast  changing  into  rose  and 
rose  to  a  fiery  red  as  the  fast-rising  sun  sent  its  shafts 
over  the  snow-coated  mountains. 

And  now  there  came  to  him  a  full  realisation  of 
what  had  happened  and  where  he  was.  To  his 
amazement,  though,  he  was  almost  without  pain. 
That  his  wound  had  been  dressed  he  was,  of  course, 
well  aware  for  when  he  attempted  to  draw  back  still 
further  the  curtain  at  the  window  the  movement 
strained  the  tight  bandage,  and  he  was  instantly  made 
conscious  of  a  twinge  of  pain. 

Nevertheless,  he  persevered,  for  he  wisely  de- 
cided that  it  would  be  well  to  reconnoitre,  to  famil- 
iarise himself,  as  much  as  possible,  with  the  lay  of 
the  land  and  find  out  whether  the  trail  that  he  had  fol- 
lowed to  reach  the  cabin  which,  he  recalled,  was 
perched  high  up  above  a  ravine,  was  the  only  means 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      269 

of  communication  with  the  valley  below.  It  was  a 
useless  precaution,  for  the  snow  would  have  wholly 
obliterated  any  such  trail  had  there  been  one  and, 
soon  realising  the  fact,  he  fell  back  exhausted  by  his 
effort  on  the  pillows. 

A  half  hour  passed  and  the  man  began  to  grow 
restless.  He  had,  of  course,  no  idea  whatever  of 
the  length  of  time  he  had  been  in  the  cabin,  and  he 
knew  that  he  must  be  thinking  of  an  immediate  es- 
cape. In  desperation,  he  tried  to  get  out  of  bed, 
but  the  task  was  beyond  his  power.  At  that  a  ter- 
rible feeling  of  hopelessness  assailed  him.  His  only 
chance  was  to  reach  the  valley  where  he  had  little 
fear  of  capture ;  but  wounded,  as  he  was,  that  seemed 
out  of  the  question,  and  he  saw  himself  caught  like 
a  rat  in  a  trap.  In  an  access  of  rage  at  the  situa- 
tion in  which  he  was  placed  he  made  another  effort 
to  raise  himself  up  on  his  elbow  and  peer  through 
the  window  at  the  Sierras.  The  noise  that  he  made, 
slight  though  it  was,  awoke  the  Girl.  In  an  instant 
she  was  at  his  bedside  drawing  the  curtain  over  the 
window. 

"  What  you  thinkin'  of?  "  she  asked.  "  At  any 
moment  —  jest  as  soon  as  the  trail  can  be  cleared  — 
there'll  be  someone  of  the  boys  up  here  to  see  how 
I've  pulled  through.  They  mustn't  see  you.  .  .  ." 

Forcibly,  but  with  loving  tenderness,  she  put  him 
back  among  his  pillows  and  seated  herself  by  the 


27o     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

bed.  An  awkward  silence  followed.  For  now  that 
the  man  was  in  his  right  senses  it  was  borne  in  upon 
her  that  he  might  remember  that  she  had  fed  him, 
given  him  drink  and  fondled  him.  It  was  a  situa- 
tion embarrassing  to  both.  Neither  knew  just  what 
to  say  or  how  to  begin.  At  length,  the  voice  from 
the  bed  spoke : 

"  How  long  have  I  been  here?  " 

"  Three  days." 

"  And  you  have  nursed  me  all  that  — " 

"  You  mustn't  talk,"  warned  the  girl.  "  It's 
dangerous  in  more  ways  than  one.  But  if  you  keep 
still  no  one'll  suspect  that  you're  here." 

"  But  I  must  know  what  happened,"  he  insisted 
with  increasing  excitement.  "  I  remember  nothing 
after  I  came  down  the  ladder.  The  Sheriff  — 
Ranee  —  what's  become  .  .  .  ?  " 

The  Girl  chided  him  with  gentle  authority. 

"  You  keep  perfectly  still  —  you  mustn't  say 
nothin'  'til  you've  rested.  Everythin's  all  right  an' 
you  needn't  worry  a  bit."  But  then  seeing  that  he 
chafed  at  this,  she  added:  "Well,  then,  I'll  tell 
you  all  there  is  to  know."  And  then  followed  an 
account  of  the  happenings  of  that  night.  It  was  not 
a  thoroughly  truthful  tale,  for  in  her  narrative  she 
told  him  only  what  she  thought  was  necessary  and 
good  for  him  to  know,  keeping  the  rest  to  herself. 
And  when  she  had  related  all  that  there  was  to  tell 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      271 

she  insisted  upon  his  going  to  sleep  again,  giv- 
ing him  no  opportunity  whatsoever  to  speak,  since 
she  left  his  bedside  after  drawing  the  curtains. 

Unwillingly  the  man  lay  back  and  tried  to  force 
himself  to  be  patient;  but  he  fretted  at  the  enforced 
quietude  and,  as  a  result,  sleep  refused  to  come  to 
him.  From  time  to  time  he  could  hear  the  Girl 
moving  noiselessly  about  the  room.  The  knowledge 
that  she  was  there  gave  him  a  sense  of  security,  and 
he  began  to  let  his  thoughts  dwell  upon  her.  No 
longer  did  he  doubt  but  what  she  was  a  real  in- 
fluence now;  and  the  thought  had  the  effect  of  mak- 
ing him  keenly  alive  to  what  his  life  had  been.  It 
was  not  a  pleasant  picture  that  he  looked  back  upon, 
now  that  he  had  caught  a  glimpse  of  what  life  might 
mean  with  the  Girl  at  his  side.  From  the  moment 
that  he  had  taken  her  in  his  arms  he  realised  to  the 
full  that  his  cherished  dream  had  come  true;  he 
realised,  also,  that  there  was  now  but  one  answer  to 
the  question  of  keeping  to  the  oath  given  to  his 
father,  and  that  was  that  gratitude  —  for  he  had 
guessed  rightly,  though  she  had  not  told  him,  that 
she  had  saved  him  from  capture  by  the  Sheriff  and 
his  posse  —  demanded  that  he  should  put  an  end 
to  his  vocation  and  devote  his  life  henceforth  to  mak- 
ing her  happy. 

Once  or  twice  while  thus  communing  with  him- 
self he  fancied  that  he  heard  voices.  It  seemed  to 


272      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

him  that  he  recognised  Nick's  voice.  But  whoever 
it  was,  he  spoke  in  whispers,  and  though  the 
wounded  man  strove  to  hear,  he  was  unsuccessful. 

After  a  while  he  heard  the  door  close  and  then 
the  tension  was  somewhat  relaxed,  for  he  knew  that 
she  was  keeping  his  presence  in  her  cabin  a  secret 
with  all  the  wiles  of  a  clever  and  loving  woman. 
And  more  and  more  he  determined  to  gain  an 
honoured  place  for  her  in  some  community  —  an 
honoured  place  for  himself  and  her.  Vague,  very 
vague,  of  course,  were  the  new  purposes  and  plans 
that  had  so  suddenly  sprang  up  because  of  her  in- 
fluence, but  the  desire  to  lead  a  clean  life  had  touched 
his  heart,  and  since  his  old  calling  had  never  been 
pleasing  to  him,  he  did  not  for  a  moment  doubt  his 
ability  to  succeed. 

The  morning  was  half  gone  when  the  Girl  re- 
turned to  her  patient.  Then,  in  tones  that  did  her 
best  to  make  her  appear  free  from  anxiety,  she  told 
him  that  it  was  the  barkeeper,  as  he  had  surmised, 
with  whom  she  had  been  talking  and  that  she  had 
been  obliged  to  take  him  into  her  confidence.  The 
man  made  no  comment,  for  the  situation  necessarily 
was  in  her  hands,  and  he  felt  that  she  could  be  relied 
upon  not  to  make  any  mistake.  Four  people,  he  was 
told,  knew  of  his  presence  in  the  cabin.  So  far  as 
Ranee  was  concerned  she  had  absolute  faith  in  his 
honour,  gambler  though  he  was;  there  was  nothing 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      273 

that  Nick  would  not  do  for  her ;  and  as  for  the  In- 
dians, the  secret  was  sure  to  be  kept  by  them,  un- 
less Jackrabbit  got  hold  of  some  whisky  —  a  con- 
tingency not  at  all  likely,  for  Nick  had  promised  to 
see  to  that.  In  fact,  all  could  be  trusted  to  be  as 
silent  as  the  grave. 

The  invalid  had  listened  intently;  nevertheless,  he 
sighed: 

"  It's  hard  to  lie  here.  I  don't  want  to  be  caught 
now" 

The  Girl  smiled  at  the  emphasis  on  the  last  word, 
for  she  knew  that  it  referred  to  her.  Furthermore, 
she  had  divined  pretty  well  what  had  been  his 
thoughts  concerning  his  old  life;  but,  being  essen- 
tially a  woman  of  action  and  not  words,  she  said  noth- 
ing. 

A  moment  or  so  later  he  asked  her  to  read  to  him. 
The  Girl  looked  as  she  might  have  looked  if  he  had 
asked  her  to  go  to  the  moon.  Notwithstanding,  she 
got  up  and,  presently,  returned  with  a  lot  of  old 
school-books,  which  she  solemnly  handed  over  for  his 
inspection. 

The  invalid  smiled  at  the  look  of  earnestness  on 
the  Girl's  face. 

"  Not  these  ?  "  he  gently  inquired.  "  Where  is 
the  Dante  you  were  telling  me  about?  " 

Once  more  the  Girl  went  over  to  the  book-shelf; 
when  she  came  back  she  handed  him  a  volume, 


274      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

which  he  glanced  over  carefully  before  showing  her 
the  place  where  he  wished  her  to  begin  to  read  to  him. 

At  first  the  Girl  was  embarrassed  and  stumbled 
badly.  But  on  seeing  that  he  seemed  not  to  notice 
it  she  gained  courage  and  acquitted  herself  cred- 
itably, at  least,  so  she  flattered  herself,  for  she  could 
detect,  as  she  looked  up  from  time  to  time,  no  ex- 
pression other  than  pleasure  on  his  face.  It  may 
be  surmised,  though,  that  Johnson  had  not  merely 
chosen  a  page  at  random ;  on  the  contrary,  when  the 
book  was  in  his  hand  he  had  quickly  found  the  lines 
which  the  Girl  had,  so  to  say,  paraphrased,  and  he 
was  intensely  curious  to  see  how  they  would  appeal  to 
her.  But  now,  apparently,  she  saw  nothing  in  the 
least  amusing  in  them,  nor  in  other  passages  fully  as 
sentimental.  In  fact,  no  comment  of  any  kind  was 
forthcoming  from  her  —  though  Johnson  was  look- 
ing for  it  and,  to  tell  the  truth,  was  somewhat  dis- 
appointed—  when  she  read  that  Dante  had  prob- 
ably never  spoken  more  than  twice  to  Beatrice  and 
his  passion  had  no  other  food  than  the  mists  of  his 
own  dreaming.  However,  it  was  different  when, — 
pausing  before  each  word  after  the  manner  of  a 
child, —  she  came  to  a  passage  of  the  poet's,  and 
read: 

"  '  In  that  moment  I  say  most  truly  that  the  spirit 
of  life,  which  hath  its  dwelling  in  the  most  secret 
chambers  of  the  heart,  began  to  tremble  so  violently 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      275 

that  the  least  pulse  of  my  body  shook  herewith,  and 
in  the  trembling  it  said  these  words:  "Here  is  a 
deity  stronger  than  I  who,  coming  shall  rule  over 
me."  '  " 

At  that  the  Girl  let  the  book  fall  and,  going  down 
on  her  knees  and  taking  both  his  hands  in  hers,  she 
raised  to  him  a  look  so  full  of  adoring  worship  that 
he  felt  himself  awed  before  it. 

"  That  'ere  Dante  ain't  so  far  off  after  all.  I 
know  jest  how  he  feels.  Oh,  I  ain't  fit  to  read  to 
you,  to  talk  to  you,  to  kiss  you." 

Nevertheless,  he  saw  to  it  that  she  did. 

After  this  he  told  her  about  the  Inferno,  and  she 
listened  eagerly  to  his  description  of  the  unfor- 
tunate characters,  though  she  declared,  when  he  ex- 
plained some  of  the  crimes  that  they  had  committed, 
that  they  "  Got  only  what  was  rightly  comin'  to 
them." 

The  patient  could  hardly  suppress  his  amusement. 
Dante  was  discarded  and  instead  they  told  each  other 
how  much  love  there  was  in  that  little  cabin  on 
Cloudy  Mountain. 

The  days  that  followed  were  all  much  like  this 
one.  Food  was  brought  up  from  The  Polka  and,  by 
degrees,  the  patient's  strength  came  back.  And  it 
was  but  natural  that  he  became  so  absorbed  in  his 
newly-found  happiness  that  he  gradually  was  losing 
all  sense  of  danger.  Late  one  night,  however,  when 


276      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

he  was  asleep,  an  incident  happened  that  warned  the 
Girl  that  it  was  necessary  to  get  her  lover  away  ju?t 
as  soon  as  he  was  able  to  ride  a  horse. 

Lying  on  the  rug  in  front  of  the  fire  she  had  been 
thinking  of  him  when,  suddenly,  her  quick  ear,  more 
than  ever  alert  in  these  days,  caught  the  sound  of  a 
stealthy  footstep  outside  the  cabin.  With  no  fear 
whatever  except  in  relation  to  the  discovery  of  her 
lover,  the  Girl  went  noiselessly  to  the  window  and 
peered  out  into  the  darkness.  A  man  was  making 
signs  that  he  wished  to  speak  with  her.  For  a  mo- 
ment she  stood  watching  in  perplexity,  but  almost  in- 
stantly her  instinct  told  her  that  one  of  that  race, 
for  she  believed  the  man  to  be  a  Mexican,  would 
never  dare  to  come  to  her  cabin  at  that  time  of  night 
unless  it  was  on  a  friendly  errand.  So  putting  her 
face  close  to  the  pane  to  reassure  herself  that  she  had 
not  been  mistaken  in  regard  to  his  nationality,  she 
then  went  to  the  door  and  held  it  wide  open  for  the 
man  to  enter,  at  the  same  time  putting  her  finger 
to  her  lips  as  a  sign  that  he  should  be  very  still. 

"What  are  you  doin'  here?  What  do  you 
want?  "  she  asked  in  a  low  voice,  at  the  same  time 
leading  him  to  the  side  of  the  room  further  away 
from  her  lover. 

Jose  Castro's  first  words  were  in  Spanish,  but 
immediately  perceiving  that  he  failed  to  make  her 
understand,  he  nodded  comprehendingly,  and  said : 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      277 

"  All  righta  —  I  espeak  Engleesh  —  I  am  Jose 
Castro  too  well  known  to  the  Maestro.  I  want  to 
see  'im." 

The  Girl's  intuition  told  her  that  a  member  of  the 
band  stood  before  her,  and  she  regarded  him  sus- 
piciously. Not  that  she  believed  that  he  was  dis- 
loyal and  had  come  there  with  hostile  intent,  but 
because  she  felt  that  she  must  be  absolutely  sure  of 
her  ground  before  she  revealed  the  fact  that  John- 
son was  in  the  cabin.  She  let  some  moments  pass 
before  she  replied: 

"  I  don't  know  nothin'  about  your  master.  Who 
is  he?" 

An  indulgent  smile  crossed  the  Mexican's  face. 

"  That  ver'  good  to  tella  other  peoples ;  but  I 
know  'im  here  too  much.  You  trusta  me  —  me 
quita  safe." 

All  this  was  said  with  many  gestures  and  an  air 
that  convinced  the  Girl  that  he  was  speaking  the 
truth.  But  since  she  deemed  it  best  that  the  invalid 
should  be  kept  from  any  excitement,  she  resolved  to 
make  the  Mexican  divulge  to  her  the  nature  of  his 
important  errand. 

"  How  do  you  know  he's  here?  "  she  began  warily. 
"  What  do  you  want  'im  for?  " 

The  Mexican's  shifty  eyes  wandered  all  over  the 
room  as  if  to  make  certain  that  no  inimical  ears  were 
listening;  then  he  whispered: 


278      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

"  I  tella  you  something  —  you  lika  the  Maestro?  " 

Unconsciously  the  Girl  nodded,  which  evidently 
satisfied  the  Mexican,  for  he  went  on: 

"You  thinka  well  of  him  —  yees.  Now  I  tella 
you  something.  The  man  Pedro  'e  no  good.  'E 
wisha  the  reward  —  the  money  for  Ramerrez.  'E 
and  the  woman  —  woman  no  good  —  tell  Meester 
Ashby  they  thinka  'im  'ert.." 

The  Girl  felt  the  colour  kavs  her  cheeks,  though 
she  made  a  gesture  for  him  to  proceed. 

"  Pedro  not  'ere  any  longer,"  smiled  the  Mexi- 
can. "  Me  senda  'im  to  the  devil.  Serva  'im 
right." 

"  An'  the  woman?"  gasped  the  Girl 

"  She  gone  —  got  away  —  Monterey  by  this 
time,"  replied  Castro  with  evident  disappointment. 
"  But  Meester  Ashby  'e  know  too  much  —  'ees  men 
everywhere  searched  the  camp  —  no  safa  'ere  now. 
To-norrow — "  Castro  stopped  short;  the  next  in- 
stant with  a  joyful  gleam  in  his  eyes  he  cried  out: 
"Maestro!" 

"  Castro's  right,  Girl,"  said  Johnson,  who  had 
waked  and  heard  the  Mexican's  last  words;  "it  is 
not  safe  a  moment  more  here,  and  I  must  go." 

With  a  little  cry  of  loving  protest  the  Girl  ab- 
ruptly left  the  men  to  talk  over  the  situation  and 
sought  the  opposite  side  of  the  room.  There,  her 
eyes  half-closed  and  her  lips  pressed  tightly  together 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      279 

she  gave  herself  up  to  her  distressing  fears.  After 
a  while  it  was  made  plain  to  her  that  she  was  being 
brought  into  the  conversation,  for  every  now  and 
then  Castro  would  look  curiously  at  her;  at  length, 
as  if  it  had  been  determined  by  them  that  nothing 
should  be  undertaken  without  her  advice,  Johnson, 
followed  by  his  subordinate,  came  over  to  her  and 
related  in  detail  all  the  startling  information  that 
Castro  had  brought. 

Quietly  the  Girl  listened  and,  in  the  end,  it  was 
agreed  between  them  that  it  would  be  safer  for  the 
men  not  to  leave  the  cabin  together,  but  that  Castro 
should  go  at  once  with  the  understanding  that  he 
should  procure  horses  and  wait  for  the  master  at  a 
given  point  across  the  ravine.  It  was  decided,  too, 
that  there  was  not  a  moment  to  be  lost  in  putting 
their  plan  into  execution.  In  consequence,  Castro 
immediately  took  his  departure. 

The  hour  that  passed  before  the  time  set  for 
Johnson  to  leave  the  cabin  was  a  most  trying  one  for 
both  of  them.  It  was  not  so  hard  on  the  man,  of 
course,  for  he  was  excited  over  the  prospect  of  es- 
caping ;  but  the  Girl,  whose  mind  was  filled  with  the 
dread  of  what  might  happen  to  him,  had  nothing  to 
sustain  her.  Despite  his  objection,  she  had  stipu- 
lated that,  with  Jackrabbit  as  a  companion,  she  should 
accompany  him  to  the  outskirts  of  the  camp.  And 
so,  at  the  moment  of  departure,  throwing  about  her 


280      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

a  cloak  of  some  rough  material,  she  went  up  to  her 
lover  and  said  with  a  quiver  in  her  voice : 

"  I'm  ready,  Dick,  but  I'm  a-figurin'  that  I  can't 
let  you  go  alone  —  you  jest  got  to  take  me  below 
with  you,  an'  that's  all  there  is  to  it" 

The  man  shook  his  head. 

"  There's  very  little  risk,  believe  me.  I'll  join 
Castro  and  ride  all  through  the  night.  I'll  be  down 
below  in  no  time  at  all.  But  we  must  be  going, 
dear." 

The  man  passed  through  the  door  first.  But 
when  it  came  the  Girl's  turn  she  hesitated,  for  she 
had  seen  a  dark  shadow  flit  by  the  window.  It  was 
as  if  someone  had  been  stealthily  watching  there. 
In  another  moment,  however,  it  turned  out  to  be 
Jackrabbit  and,  greatly  relieved,  the  Girl  whispered 
to  Johnson  that  he  was  to  descend  the  trail  between 
the  Indian  and  herself,  and  that  on  no  account  was 
he  to  utter  a  word  until  she  gave  him  permission. 

For  another  moment  or  so  they  stood  in  silence; 
Johnson,  appreciating  fully  what  were  the  Girl's 
feelings,  did  not  dare  to  whisper  even  a  word  of 
encouragement  to  her.  At  last,  she  ordered  the 
Indian  to  lead  the  way,  and  they  started. 

The  trail  curved  and  twisted  around  the  moun- 
tain, and  in  places  they  had  to  use  the  greatest  care 
lest  a  misstep  should  carry  them  over  a  precipice 
with  a  drop  of  hundreds  of  feet.  It  was  a  perilous 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      281 

descent,  inasmuch  as  the  path  was  covered  with 
snow.  Moreover,  it  was  necessary  that  as  little 
noise  as  possible  should  be  made  while  they  were  mak- 
ing their  way  past  the  buildings  of  the  camp  below, 
for  the  Mexican  had  not  been  wrong  when  he  stated 
that  Ashby's  men  were  quartered  at,  or  in  the  imme- 
diate vicinity  of,  The  Palmetto.  Fortunately,  they 
passed  through  without  meeting  anyone,  and  before 
long  they  came  to  the  edge  of  the  plateau  beneath 
which  was  the  ravine  which  Johnson  had  to  cross 
to  reach  the  spot  where  it  had  been  agreed  that  Castro 
should  be  waiting  with  horses  for  his  master.  It 
was  also  the  place  where  the  Girl  was  to  leave  her 
lover  to  go  on  alone,  and  so  they  halted.  A  few 
moments  passed  without  either  of  them  speaking; 
at  length,  the  man  said  in  as  cheery  a  voice  as  he 
could  summon : 

"  I  must  leave  you  here.  I  remember  the  way 
well.  All  danger  is  past." 

The  Girl's  lips  were  quivering;  she  asked: 

"  An'  when  will  you  be  back?  " 

The  man  noted  her  emotion,  and  though  he  him- 
self was  conscious  of  a  choking  sensation  he  con- 
trived to  say  in  a  most  optimistic  tone : 

"  In  two  weeks  —  not  more  than  two  weeks.  It 
will  take  all  that  time  to  arrange  things  at  the  rancho. 
As  it  is,  I  hardly  see  my  way  clear  to  dismissing  my 
men  —  you  see,  they  belong  to  me,  almost,  and  — 


282      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

but  I'll  do  so,  never  fear.  No  power  on  earth  could 
make  me  take  up  the  old  life  again." 

The  Girl  said  nothing  in  reply;  instead  she  put 
both  her  arms  around  his  neck  and  remained  a  long 
time  in  his  embrace.  At  last,  summoning  up  all  her 
fortitude  she  put  him  resolutely  from  her,  and  whis- 
pered: 

"  When  you  are  ready,  come.  You  must  leave  me 
now."  And  with  a  curt  command  to  the  Indian  she 
fled  back  into  the  darkness. 

For  an  instant  the  road  agent's  eyes  followed  the 
direction  that  she  had  taken;  then,  his  spirits  rising 
at  the  thought  that  his  escape  was  now  well-nigh 
assured,  he  turned  and  plunged  down  the  ravine. 


XV 


As  has  been  said,  it  was  a  custom  of  the  miners, 
whenever  a  storm  made  it  impossible  for  them  to 
work  in  the  mines,  to  turn  the  dance-hall  of  the 
Polka  Saloon  into  an  Academy,  the  post  of  teacher 
being  filled  by  the  Girl.  It  happened,  therefore, 
that  early  the  following  morning  the  men  of  Cloudy 
Mountain  Camp  assembled  in  the  low,  narrow  room 
with  its  walls  of  boards  nailed  across  inside  upright 
beams  —  a  typical  miners'  dance-hall  of  the  late  For- 
ties —  which  they  had  transformed  into  a  veritable 
bower,  so  eager  were  they  to  please  their  lovely 
teacher.  Everyone  was  in  high  spirits,  Ranee 
alone  refraining  from  taking  any  part  whatsoever  in 
the  morning's  activities;  dejectedly,  sullenly,  he  sat 
tilted  back  in  an  old,  weather-beaten,  lumber  chair 
before  the  heavily-dented,  sheet-iron  stove  in  a  far 
corner  of  the  room,  gazing  abstractedly  up  towards 
the  stove's  rusty  pipe  that  ran  directly  through  the 
ceiling;  and  what  with  his  pale,  waxen  countenance, 
his  eyes  red  and  half-closed  for  the  want  of  sleep, 
his  hair  ruffled,  his  necktie  awry,  his  waistcoat  un- 
fastened, his  boots  unpolished,  and  the  burnt-out 
cigar  which  he  held  between  his  white,  emaciated 
fingers,  he  was  not  the  immaculate-looking  Ranee 
of  old,  but  presented  a  very  sad  spectacle  indeed. 
283 


284      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

Outside,  through  the  windows, —  over  which  had 
been  hung  curtains  of  red  and  yellow  cotton, — 
could  be  seen  the  green  firs  on  the  mountain,  their 
branches  dazzling  under  their  burden  of  snow  crys- 
tals; and  stretching  out  seemingly  interminably  un- 
til the  line  of  earth  and  sky  met  were  the  great  hills 
white  with  snow  except  in  the  spots  where  the  wind 
had  swept  it  away.  But  within  the  little,  low  dance- 
hall,  everywhere  were  evidences  of  festivity  and 
good  cheer,  the  walls  being  literally  covered  with 
pine  boughs  and  wreaths  of  berries,  while  here 
and  there  was  an  eagle's  wing  or  an  owl's  head, 
a  hawk  or  a  vulture,  a  quail  or  a  snow-bird,  not 
to  mention  the  big,  stuffed  game  cock  that  was 
mounted  on  a  piece  of  weather-beaten  board, 
until  it  would  seem  as  if  every  variety  of  bird 
native  to  the  Sierra  Mountains  was  represented 
there. 

Grouped  together  on  one  side  of  the  wall  were 
twelve  buck  horns,  and  these  served  as  a  sort  of  rack 
for  the  miners  to  hang  their  hats  and  coats  during 
the  school  session.  Several  mottoes,  likewise  upon 
the  wall,  were  intended  to  attract  the  students'  at- 
tention, the  most  conspicuous  being:  "Live  and 
Learn  "  and  "  God  Bless  Our  School."  A  great 
bear's  skin  formed  a  curtain  between  the  dance-hall 
and  the  saloon,  while  upon  the  door-frame  was  a 
(arge  hand  rudely  painted,  the  index-finger  out- 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      285 

stretched  and  pointing  to  the  next  room.  It  said: 
"  To  The  Bar." 

It  was,  however,  upon  the  teacher's  desk  —  a  whit- 
tled-up,  hand-made  affair  which  stood  upon  a  slight- 
ly-raised platform  —  that  the  boys  had  outdone 
themselves  in  the  matter  of  decoration.  Garlanded 
both  on  top  and  around  the  sides  with  pine  boughs 
and  upon  the  centre  of  which  stood  a  tall  glass  filled 
with  red  and  white  berries,  it  looked  not  unlike  a 
sacrificial  altar  which,  in  a  way,  it  certainly  was.  A 
box  that  was  intended  for  a  seat  for  the  teacher  was 
also  decorated  with  pine  branches;  while  several 
cheap,  print  flags  adorned  the  primitive  iron  holder 
of  the  large  lamp  suspended  from  the  ceiling  in  the 
centre  of  the  room.  Altogether  it  was  a  most  fes- 
tive-looking Academy  that  was  destined  to  meet  the 
teacher's  eye  on  this  particular  morning. 

For  some  time  Nick  had  been  standing  near  the 
window  gazing  in  the  direction  of  the  Girl's  cabin. 
Turning,  suddenly,  to  Ranee,  the  only  other  occupant 
of  the  room,  he  remarked  somewhat  sadly: 

"  I'd  be  willin'  to  lose  the  profits  of  the  bar  if  we 
could  git  back  to  a  week  ago  —  before  Johnson 
walked  into  this  room." 

At  the  mention  of  the  road  agent's  name  Ranee's 
eyes  dropped  to  the  floor.  It  required  no  flash  of 
inspiration  to  tell  him  that  things  would  never  be 
what  they  had  been. 


286      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

"  Johnson,"  he  muttered,  his  face  ashen  white  and 
a  sound  in  his  throat  that  was  something  like  a  groan. 
11  A  week  —  a  week  in  her  cabin  —  nursed  and 
kissed  .  .  ."  he  finished  shortly. 

Nick  had  been  helping  himself  to  a  drink;  he 
wheeled  swiftly  round,  confronting  him. 

"  Oh,  say,  Ranee,  she  — " 

Ranee  took  the  words  out  of  his  mouth. 

"  Never  kissed  him !  You  bet  she  kissed  him ! 
It  was  all  I  could  do  to  keep  from  telling  the  whole 
camp  he  was  up  there."  His  eyes  blazed  and  his 
hands  tightened  convulsively. 

"  But  you  didn't  .  .  ."  Nick  broke  in  on  him 
quickly.  "  If  I  hadn't  been  let  into  the  game  by 
the  Girl  I'd  a  thought  you  were  a  level  Sheriff  lookin' 
for  him.  Ranee,  you're  my  ideal  of  a  perfect 
gent." 

Ranee  braced  up  in  his  chair. 

"  What  did  she  see  in  that  Sacramento  shrimp, 
will  you  tell  me?"  presently  he  questioned,  con- 
tempt showing  on  every  line  of  his  face. 

The  little  barkeeper  did  not  answer  at  once,  but 
filled  a  glass  with  whisky  which  he  handed  to  him. 

"  Well,  you  see,  I  figger  it  out  this  way,  boss," 
at  last  he  answered,  meeting  him  face  to  face  frankly, 
earnestly,  his  foot  the  while  resting  on  the  other's 
chair.  "  Love's  like  a  drink  that  gits  a  hold  on  you 
an'  you  can't  quit.  It's  a  turn  of  the  head  or  a 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      287 

touch  of  the  hands,  or  it's  a  half  sort  of  smile,  an' 
you're  doped,  doped,  doped  with  a  feelin'  like  strong 
liquor  runnin'  through  your  veins,  an'  there  ain't 
nothin'  on  earth  can  break  it  up  once  you've  got  the 
habit.  That's  love." 

Touched  by  the  little  barkeeper's  droll  philoso- 
phy, the  Sheriff  dropped  his  head  on  his  breast,  while 
the  hand  which  held  the  glass  unconsciously  fell  to 
his  side. 

"  I've  got  it,"  went  on  Nick  with  enthusiasm ; 
"you've  got  it;  the  boy's  got  it;  the  Girl's  got  it; 
the  whole  damn  world's  got  it.  It's  all  the  heaven 
there  is  on  earth,  an'  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten  it's 
hell." 

Ranee  opened  his  lips  to  speak,  but  quickly  drew 
them  in  tightly.  The  next  instant  Nick  touched  him 
lightly  on  the  shoulder  and  pointed  to  the  empty 
glass  in  his  hand,  the  contents  having  run  out  upon 
the  floor. 

With  a  mere  glance  at  the  empty  glass  Ranee  re- 
turned it  to  Nick.  Presently,  then,  he  took  out  his 
watch  and  fell  to  studying  its  face  intently,  and  only 
when  he  had  finally  returned  the  watch  to  his  pocket 
did  he  voice  what  was  in  his  mind. 

"  Well,  Nick,"  he  said,  "  her  road  agent's  got  off 
by  now." 

Whereupon,  the  barkeeper,  too,  took  out  his 
watch  and  consulted  it. 


288      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

"  Left  Cloudy  at  three  o'clock  this  morning  — 
five  hours  off  .  .  ."  was  his  brief  comment. 

Once  more  a  silence  fell  upon  the  room.     Then, 
all  of  a  sudden,  the  sound  of  horses'  hoofs  and  the' 
murmur    of    rough    voices    came    to    their     ears, 
and  almost  instantly  a  voice  was  heard  to  cry  out: 

"Hello!" 

"  Hello !  "  came   from   an  answering  voice. 

"  Why,  it's  The  Pony  Express  got  through  at 
last!  "  announced  Nick,  incredulously;  and  so  saying 
he  took  up  the  whisky  bottle  and  glasses  which  lay 
on  the  teacher's  desk  and  dashed  into  the  saloon. 
He  had  barely  left,  however,  than  The  Pony  Express, 
muffled  up  to  his  ears  and  looking  fit  to  brave  the 
fiercest  of  storms,  entered  the  room,  hailing  the  boys 
with: 

"Hello,  boys!     Letter  for  Ashby!" 

The  Deputy  —  who  with  Trinidad  and  Sonora 
had  come  running  in,  the  latter  carrying  a  boot-leg 
and  a  stove-polishing  brush  in  his  hand  —  took  the 
letter  and  started  in  search  of  the  Wells  Fargo 
Agent  who,  Ranee  had  told  them,  had  gone  to  sleep. 

"  Well,  boys,  how  d'you  like  bein'  snowed  in  for 
a  week?  "  asked  The  Pony  Express,  warming  himself 
by  the  stove;  and  then  without  waiting  for  an  an- 
swer he  rattled  on:  "There's  a  rumour  at  The 
Ridge  that  you  all  let  Ramerrez  freeze  an'  missed 
*.  hangin'.  Say,  they're  roarin'  at  you,  chaps  1'* 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      289 

And  with  a  "  So  long,  boys!  "  he  strode  out  of  the 
room. 

Sonora  started  in  hot  pursuit  after  him,  hollering 
out: 

"Wait!  Wait!"  And  when  The  Pony  Ex- 
press halted,  he  added:  "  Says  you  to  the  boys  at 
The  Ridge  as  you  ride  by,  the  Academy  at  Cloudy 
is  open  to-day  full  blast !  " 

"  Whoopee!  Whoop!  "  chimed  in  Trinidad  and 
began  to  execute  a  pas  seul  in  the  middle  of  the  room, 
dropping  into  a  chair  just  in  time  to  avoid  running 
into  Nick,  who  hurriedly  returned  with  two  glasses 
and  a  bottle. 

"  Help  yourselves,  boys,"  he  said;  which  they  did 
to  the  accompaniment  of  a  succession  of  joyous  yells 
from  Trinidad. 

Meantime  Ranee  had  relighted  the  burnt-out  ci- 
gar which  he  had  been  holding  for  some  time  be- 
tween his  fingers,  and  was  sending  curls  of  smoke  up- 
wards towards  the  ceiling. 

"  Academy,"  he  sneered. 

Sonora  surveyed  him  critically  for  some  moments ; 
at  length  he  said: 

"Say,  Ranee,  what's  the  matter  with  you?  We 
began  this  Academy  game  together  —  we  boys  an' 
the  Girl  —  an'  there's  a  damn  pretty  piece  of  senti- 
ment back  of  it.  She's  taught  some  of  us  our  let- 
ters, and  — " 


29o      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

"  He's  a  wearin'  mournin'  because  Johnson  didn't 
fall  alive  into  his  hands,"  interposed  Trinidad  with 
a  laugh. 

"  Is  that  it?"  queried  Sonora. 

"  Ain't  it  enough,  Ranee,  that  he  must  be  lyin* 
dead  down  some  canyon,  with  his  mouth  full  of 
snow?"  A  mocking  smile  was  on  Trinidad's  face 
as  he  asked  the  question. 

"  You  done  all  you  could  to  git  'im,"  went  on  So- 
nora as  if  there  had  been  no  interruption.  "  The 
boys  is  all  satisfied  he's  dead." 

"Dead?"  Ranee  fairly  picked  up  the  word. 
"  Dead?  Yes,  he's  dead,"  he  declared  tensely,  and 
unconsciously  arose  and  went  over  to  the  window 
where  he  stood  motionless,  gazing  through  the  parted 
curtains  at  the  snow-covered  hills.  Presently  the 
boys  saw  a  cynical  smile  spread  over  his  face,  and  a 
moment  later,  he  added :  **  The  matter  with  me  is 
that  I'm  a  Chink." 

This  depreciation  of  himself  was  so  thoroughly 
un-Rance  like,  that  it  brought  forth  great  bursts  of 
laughter  from  the  men,  but  notwithstanding  which, 
Ranee  went  on  to  admit,  in  the  same  sullen  tone,  that 
it  was  all  up  with  him  and  the  Girl. 

"  Throwed  'im !  "  whispered  Trinidad  to  Sonora 
with  a  pleased  look  on  his  face. 

Sonora,  likewise,  was  beaming  with  joy  when  al- 
most instantly  he  turned  to  Nick  with: 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      291 

"  As  sure's  you  live  she's  throwed  Mm  for  me !  " 

Nick,  among  his  other  accomplishments,  had  a 
faculty  for  dumbness  and  said  nothing;  but  a  smile 
which  approached  a  grin  formed  on  his  face  as  he 
stood  eyeing  quizzically  first  one  and  then  the  other. 
Finally,  picking  up  the  empty  glasses,  he  left  the 
room. 

"  Will  old  dog  Tray  remember  me  " — immedi- 
ately sung  out  Trinidad,  gleefully.  While  Sonora, 
in  the  seventh  heaven  of  delight,  began  to  caper 
about  the  room.  Of  a  sudden  Nick  poked  his  head 
in  through  the  door  to  inquire  into  the  cause  of  their 
hilarity,  but  they  ignored  him  completely.  At  the 
bar-room  door,  however,  Sonora  halted  and,  glan- 
cing over  his  shoulder  in  the  Sheriff's  direction,  he 
added  in  a  most  tantalising  manner : 

"...     forme!" 

But  while  Trinidad  and  Sonora  were  going  out 
through  one  door  the  Deputy  was  entering  through 
another.  He  was  greatly  agitated  and  carried  in 
his  hand  the  letter  which  The  Pony  Express  had  en- 
trusted to  his  keeping  for  Ashby. 

"Why,  Ashby's  skipped!"  he  announced  uneas- 
ily. "  Got  off  just  after  three  this  morning  —  posse 
and  all." 

A  question  was  in  Nick's  eyes  as  he  turned  upon 
the  speaker  with  the  interjection: 

"  What  I  "     And  then  as  the  Deputy  made  a  dash 


292      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

for  the  bar-room,  he  added  with  a  swift  change  of 
manner:  "Help  yourself,  Dep." 

But  if  Nick  was  slow  to  realise  the  situation,  not 
so  the  Sheriff,  who  instantly  awoke  to  the  fact  that 
the  Wells  Fargo  Agent  was  on  Johnson's  trail.  Hu 
lips  drew  quickly  back  in  a  half-grin. 

"  Ashby's  after  Johnson,"  presently  he  said  with 
a  savage  little  laugh.  "  Nick,  he  was  watchin'  that 
greaser.  .  .  .  Took  him  ten  minutes  to  saddle 
up  —  Johnson  has  ten  minutes'  start  " —  He  broke  off 
abruptly  and  ended  impatiently  with:  "  Oh,  Lord, 
they'll  never  get  him !  He's  a  wonder  on  the  road 
« —  you've  got  to  take  your  hat  off  to  the  damn  cuss !  " 
And  with  a  dig  at  the  other's  ribs  that  was  half- 
playful,  half-serious,  he  was  off  in  pursuit  of 
Ashby. 

A  moment  later  the  miners  began  to  pile  in  for 
school,  whooping  and  yelling,  their  feet  covered 
with  snow.  Sonora  lead  with  an  armful  of  wood, 
which  he  deposited  on  the  floor  beside  the  stove;  then 
came  Handsome  Charlie  and  Happy  Halliday,  to- 
gether with  Old  Steady  and  Bill  Crow,  who  imme- 
diately dropped  on  all  fours  and  began  to  play  leap- 
frog. 

"  Boys  gatherin'  for  school,"  observed  Trinidad, 
hurriedly  opening  the  door;  and  while  the  men  pro- 
ceeded to  flock  in,  he  got  into  his  jacket  which  lay  on 
a  chair  beside  the  teacher's  desk. 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      293 

"  Here,  Trin,  here's  the  book!  "  cried  out  Happy 
Halliday;  and  the  book,  which  was  securely  tied  in 
a  red  cotton  handkerchief,  went  flying  through  the 
air. 

In  those  few  words  the  signal  was  given ;  the  fun 
was  on  in  earnest.  Instantly  the  miners  —  veritable 
school-boys  they  were,  so  genuine  was  their  merri- 
ment —  braced  themselves  for  a  catch  of  the  book, 
which  had  landed  safely  in  Trinidad's  hands.  Now 
it  was  aimed  at  Sonora,  who  caught  it  on  the  fly; 
from  Sonora  it  travelled  to  Old  Steady,  who  sent  it 
whizzing  over  to  Handsome.  Now  the  Deputy 
made  ready  to  receive  it;  but  instead  it  landed  once 
more  in  Sonera's  hands  amidst  cheers  of  "  Come  on, 
Sonora !  Whoopee !  Whoop !  " 

"  Sh-sh-sh,  boys !  "  warned  the  Deputy  as  Sonora 
was  about  to  send  the  book  on  another  expedition 
through  the  air ;  "  here  comes  the  noo  scholar  from 
Watson's." 

An  ominous  hush  fell  upon  the  room.  One  could 
have  heard  a  pin  drop  as  the  school  settled  itself 
down  with  anticipatory  grins  that  said,  "  What  won't 
we  do  to  Bucking  Billy !  "  Therefore,  there  was  not 
an  eye  that  was  not  upon  the  new  pupil  when  with 
dinner-pail  swinging  on  one  arm  and  the  other  hold- 
ing tightly  onto  a  small  slate,  he  slowly  advanced 
towards  them. 

"  Did  you  ever  play  Lame  Soldier,  m'  friend?  " 


294      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

was  Sonera's  greeting,  while  the  miners  crowded 
around  them. 

"  No,"  replied  the  big,  raw-boned,  gullible-look- 
ing fellow  with  a  grin. 

"  We'll  play  it  after  school;  you'll  be  the  stirrup," 
promised  Sonora;  then  turning  to  his  mates  with  a 
laugh,  which  was  unobserved  by  Bucking  Billy,  he 
added:  "We'll  initiate  'im." 

Presently  the  miners  began  to  move  away  and 
Trinidad,  picking  up  a  chip  which  he  espied  under 
a  bench,  put  it  on  his  shoulder  and  stood  in  the  cen- 
tre of  the  room,  thereby  indirectly  challenging  the 
new  pupil  to  a  scrimmage. 

"  Don't  do  it!  "  cried  Old  Steady  as  he  hung  up 
his  hat  upon  a  buck's  horn  on  the  wall. 

"  Go  on  I  Go  on  1  "  encouraged  Bill  Crow,  hang- 
ing up  his  hat  beside  Old  Steady's. 

The  boys  took  up  his  words  in  chorus. 

"  Go  on !     Go  on !  " 

Whereupon,  Sonora  made  a  dash  for  the  chip  and 
knocked  it  off  of  Trinidad's  shoulder,  blazing  huskily 
into  his  face  as  he  did  so: 

"You  do,  do  you?" 

In  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  Trinidad's  jacket  was 
off  and  the  two  men  were  engaged  in  a  hand-to-hand 
scuffle. 

"  Soak  him !  "  came  from  a  voice  somewhere  in 
the  crowd. 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      295 

"  Hit  him !  "  urged  another. 

"  Bat  him  in  the  eye!  "  shrieked  Handsome  Char- 
lie. 

Finally  Sonora  succeeded  in  throwing  down  his 
opponent  and  sent  him  rolling  along  the  floor,  the 
contents  of  his  pockets  marking  his  trail. 

The  rafters  of  The  Polka  shook  to  a  storm  of 
cheering,  and  there  is  no  telling  when  the  men  would 
have  ceased  had  not  Nick  interfered  at  that  moment 
by  yelling  out: 

"  Boys,  boys,  here  she  is!  " 

"  Here  comes  the  Girl !  "  came  simultaneously 
from  Happy  Halliday,  who  had  got  a  glimpse  of  her 
coming  down  the  trail. 

None  the  worse  for  his  defeat  and  fall,  Trinidad 
sprang  to  his  feet;  while  Sonora  made  a  dash  for  a 
seat.  They  had  not  been  placed;  whereupon  he 
cried  out  excitedly : 

"  The  seats,  boys,  where's  the  seats?  " 

For  the  few  minutes  that  preceded  the  Girl's  en- 
trance into  the  room  no  men  were  ever  known  to 
work  more  rapidly  or  more  harmoniously.  They 
fairly  flew  in  and  out  of  the  room,  now  bringing  in 
the  great  whittled-up,  weather-beaten  benches  and 
placing  them  in  school-room  fashion,  and  then  roll- 
ing in  boxes  and  casks  which  served  as  a  ground- 
hold  for  the  planks  which  were  stretched  across  them 
for  desks.  It  was  in  the  midst  of  these  pilgrimages 


296      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

that  Trinidad  rushed  over  to  Nick  to  ask  whether 
he  did  not  think  to-day  a  good  time  to  put  the  ques- 
tion to  the  Girl. 

Nick's  eyes  twinkled  up  with  merriment;  neverthe- 
less, his  face  took  on  a  dubious  look  when  presently 
he  answered: 

t:  I  wouldn't  rush  her,  Trin  —  you've  got  plenty 
of  time.  .  .  ."  And  when  he  proceeded  to  put 
up  the  blackboard  he  almost  ran  into  Sonora,  who 
stood  by  the  teacher's  desk  getting  into  his  frock 
coat. 

"  Hurry  up,  boys,  hurry  up !  "  urged  Trinidad, 
though  he  himself  smilingly  looked  on. 

A  moment  later  the  Girl,  carrying  a  small  book 
of  poems,  walked  quietly  into  their  midst.  She  was 
paler  and  not  as  buoyant  as  usual,  but  she  managed 
to  appear  cheerful  when  she  said : 

"Hello,  boys!" 

The  men  were  all  smiles  and  returned  her  greeting 
with: 

"Hello,  Girl!" 

Then  followed  the  presentation  of  their  offer- 
ings —  mere  trifles,  to  be  sure,  but  given  out  of  the 
fulness  of  their  hearts.  Sonora  led  with  a  bunch 
of  berries,  which  was  followed  by  Trinidad  with 
an  orange. 

"  From  'Frisco,"  he  said  simply,  watching  the  ef- 
fect of  his  words  with  pride. 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      297 

A  bunch  of  berries  was  also  Happy's  contribu- 
tion, which  he  made  with  a  stiff  little  bow  and  the 
one  word: 

"  Regards." 

Meantime  Nick,  faithful  friend  that  he  was,  went 
down  on  his  knees  and  began  to  remove  the  Girl's 
moccasins.  The  knowledge  of  his  proximity  encour- 
aged the  Girl  to  glance  about  her  to  see  if  she  could 
detect  any  signs  on  the  men's  faces  which  would 
prove  that  they ,  suspected  the  real  truth  concerning 
her  absence.  Needless  to  say  adoration  and  love 
was  all  that  she  saw;  nevertheless,  she  felt  ill-at-ease 
and,  unconsciously,  repeated: 

"  Hello,  boys !  "  And  then  added,  a  little  more 
bravely :  "  How's  everythin'  ?  " 

"  Bully !  "  spoke  up  Handsome  Charlie,  who  was 
posing  for  her  benefit,  as  was  his  wont,  beside  one 
of  the  desks. 

"  Say,  we  missed  you,"  acknowledged  Sonora  with 
a  world  of  tenderness  in  his  voice.  "  Never  knew 
you  to  desert  The  Polka  for  a  whole  week  before." 

"  No,  I  —  I  .  .  ."  stammered  guiltily,  and 
with  their  little  gifts  turned  abruptly  towards  her 
desk  lest  she  should  meet  their  gaze. 

"  Academy's  opened,"  suddenly  announced  Happy, 
"and—" 

"  Yes,  I  see  it  is,"  quickly  answered  the  Girl, 
brushing  away  a  tear  that  persisted  in  clinging  to 


298      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

her  eyelids ;  slowly,  now,  she  drew  off  her  gloves  and 
laid  them  on  the  desk. 

"  I  guess  I'm  kind  o'  nervous  to-day,  boys,"  she 
began. 

"  No  wonder,"  observed  Sonora.  "  Road  agent's 
been  in  camp  an'  we  missed  a  hangin'.  I  can't  git 
over  that." 

All  a-quiver  and  not  daring  to  meet  the  men's 
gaze,  much  less  to  discuss  the  road  agent  with  them, 
the  Girl  endeavoured  to  hide  her  confusion  by  asking 
Nick  to  help  her  off  with  her  cape.  Turning  pres- 
ently she  said  in  a  strained  voice : 

"  Well,  come  on,  boys  —  come,  now !  " 

Immediately  the  boys  fell  in  line  for  the  opening 
exercises,  which  consisted  of  an  examination  by  the 
Girl  of  their  general  appearance. 

"  Let  me  see  your  hands,"  she  said  to  the  man 
nearest  to  her;  a  glance  was  sufficient,  and  he  was 
expelled  from  her  presence.  "  Let  me  see  yours, 
Sonora,"  she  commanded. 

Holding  his  hands  behind  his  back  the  man  ad- 
dressed moved  towards  her  slowly,  for  he  was  con- 
scious of  the  grime  that  was  on  them.  Before  he 
had  spoken  his  apology  she  ordered  him  none  too 
gently  to  go  and  wash  them,  ending  with  an  em- 
phatic: 

"Git!" 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      299 

"  Yes'm,"  was  his  meek  answer,  though  he  called 
back  as  he  disappeared:  "  Been  blackenin'  my  boots." 

The  Girl  took  up  the  word  quickly. 

"  Boots !  Yes,  an'  look  at  them  boots  I  M  And 
as  each  man  came  up  to  her,  "  An'  them  boots !  an' 
them  boots  I  Get  in  there  the  whole  lot  o'  you  an' 
be  sure  that  you  leave  your  whisky  behind." 

When  all  had  left  the  room  save  Nick,  who  stood 
with  her  cape  on  his  arm  near  the  desk  she  suddenly 
became  conscious  that  she  still  had  her  hood  on,  and 
at  once  began  to  remove  it  —  a  proceeding  which 
brought  out  clearly  the  extraordinary  pallor  of  her 
face  which,  generally,  had  a  bright,  healthy  colour- 
ing. Now  she  beckoned  to  Nick  to  draw  near.  No 
need  for  her  to  speak,  for  he  had  caught  the  ques- 
tioning look  in  her  eyes,  and  it  told  him  plainer  than 
any  words  that  she  was  anxious  to  hear  of  her  lover. 
He  was  about  to  tell  her  the  little  he  knew  when 
with  lips  that  trembled  she  finally  whispered: 

"Have  you  heard  anythin'?  Do  you  think  he 
got  through  safe?  " 

Nick  nodded  in  the  affirmative. 

"  I  saw  'im  off,  you  know,"  she  went  on  in  the 
same  low  voice;  then,  before  Nick  could  speak,  she 
concluded  anxiously:  "But  s'pose  he  don't  git 
through?  " 

"  Oh,  he'll  git  through  sure !     We'll  hear  he's  out 


300      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

of  this,  country  pretty  quick,"  consoled  the  little  bar- 
keeper just  as  Ranee,  unperceived  by  them,  quietly 
entered  the  room  and  went  over  to  a  chair  by  the 
stove. 


XVI 

No  man  had  more  of  a  dread  of  the  obvious  than 
the  Sheriff.  His  position,  he  felt,  was  decidedly  an 
unpleasant  one.  Nevertheless,  in  the  silence  that  fol- 
lowed the  Girl's  discovery  of  his  presence,  he  strug- 
gled to  appear  his  old  self.  He  was  by  no  means 
unconscious  of  the  fact  that  he  had  omitted  his  usual 
cordial  greeting  to  her,  and  he  felt  that  she  must  be 
scrutinising  him,  feature  by  feature.  When,  there- 
fore, he  shot  a  covert  glance  at  her,  it  was  with 
surprise  that  he  saw  an  appealing  look  in  her 
eyes. 

"  Oh,  Jack,  I  want  to  thank  you  — "  she  began, 
but  stopped  quickly,  deterred  by  the  hard  expression 
that  instantly  spread  itself  over  the  Sheriff's  face. 
Resentment,  all  the  more  bitter  because  he  believed  it 
to  be  groundless,  followed  hard  on  the  heels  of  her 
words  which  he  thought  to  be  inspired  solely  by  a 
delicate  tactfulness. 

"  Oh,  don't  thank  me  that  he  got  away,"  he  said 
icily.  "  It  was  the  three  aces  and  the  pair  you 
held—" 

This  was  the  Girl's  opportunity;  she  seized  it. 

'*  About  the  three  aces,  I  want  to  say  that  — " 

It  was  Ranee's  turn  to  interrupt,  which  he  did 
brutally. 

sot 


302      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

"  He'd  better  keep  out  of  my  country,  that's  all." 

"  Yes,  yes." 

To  the  Girl,  any  reference  to  her  lover  was  a  stab. 
Her  face  was  pale  with  her  terrible  anxiety;  notwith- 
standing, the  contrast  of  her  pallid  cheeks  and  masses 
of  golden  hair  gave  her  a  beauty  which  Ranee,  as  he 
met  her  eyes,  found  so  extraordinarily  tempting  that 
he  experienced  a  renewed  fury  at  his  utter  helpless- 
ness. At  the  point,  however,  when  it  would  seem 
from  his  attitude  that  all  his  self-control  was  about  to 
leave  him,  the  Girl  picked  up  the  bell  on  the  desk 
and  rang  it  vigorously. 

Began  then  the  long  procession  of  miners  walking 
around  the  room  before  taking  their  seats  on  the 
Benches.  At  their  head  was  Happy  Halliday,  who 
carried  in  his  hands  a  number  of  slates,  the  one  on 
the  top  having  a  large  sponge  attached.  These  were 
all  more  or  less  in  bad  condition,  some  having  no 
frames,  while  others  were  mere  slits  of  slate,  but  all 
had  slate-pencils  fastened  to  them  by  strings. 

"  Come  along,  boys,  get  your  slates !  "  sang  out 
Happy  as  h<?  left  the  line  and  let  the  others  file  past 
him. 

"  Whoop  !  "  vociferated  Trinidad  in  a  burst  of  en- 
thusiasm. 

"  Trin,  you're  out  o'  step  there !  "  reprimanded  the 
teacher  a  little  sharply;  and  then  addressing  Happy 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      303 

she  ordered  him  to  take  his  place  once  more  in  the 
line. 

In  a  little  while  they  were  all  seated,  and  now,  at 
last,  it  seemed  to  the  barkeeper  as  if  the  air  of  the 
room  had  been  freed  of  its  tension.  No  longer  did 
he  experience  a  sense  of  alertness,  a  feeling  that  some- 
thing out  of  the  ordinary  was  going  to  happen,  and 
it  was  with  immense  relief  that  he  heard  the  Girl  take 
up  her  duties  and  ask : 

"  What  books  were  left  from  last  year?  " 

At  first  no  one  was  able  to  give  a  scrap  of  informa- 
tion on  this  important  matter;  maybe  it  was  because 
all  lips  weft  too  dry  to  open;  in  the  end,  how- 
ever, when  the  silence  was  becoming  embarrassing, 
Happy  moistened  his  lips  with  his  tongue,  and 
answered: 

"  Why,  we  scared  up  jest  a  whole  book  left.  The 
name  of  it  is  —  is  —  is  — "  The  effort  was  beyond 
his  mental  powers  and  he  came  to  a  helpless  pause. 

Swelling  with  importance,  and  drawing  forth  the 
volume  in  question  from  his  pocket,  Sonora  stood  up 
and  finished: 

"—  is  '  Old  Joe  Miller's  Jokes.'  " 

"That  will  do  nicely,"  declared  the  Girl  and 
seated  herself  on  the  pine-decorated  box. 

"  Now,  boys,"  continued  Sonora,  ever  the  most 
considerate  of  pupils,  "  before  we  begin  I  propose  no 


304      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

drawin'  of  weppings,  drinkin'  or  swearin'  in  school 
hours.  The  conduct  of  certain  members  wore  on 
teacher  last  term.  I  don't  want  to  mention  no  names, 
but  I  want  Handsome  an'  Happy  to  hear  what  I'm 
sayin'."  And  after  a  sweeping  glance  at  his  mates, 
who,  already,  had  begun  to  disport  themselves  and 
jeer  at  the  unfortunate  pair,  he  wound  up  with :  "  Is 
that  straight?" 

"  You  bet  it  is !  "  yelled  the  others  in  chorus ; 
whereupon  Sonora  dropped  into  his  seat. 

In  time  order  was  restored  and  now  the  Girl,  look- 
ing at  Ranee  out  of  her  big,  frightened,  blue  eyes, 
observed : 

"  Ranee,  last  year  you  led  off  with  an  opcnin'  ad- 
dress, an' — " 

"  Yes,  yes,  go  on  Sheriff !  "  cried  the  boys,  hailing 
her  suggestion  with  delight. 

Nevertheless,  the  Sheriff  hesitated,  seeing  which, 
Trinidad  contributed: 

"Let  'er  go,  Jack!" 

At  length,  fixing  a  look  upon  the  Girl,  Ranee  rose 
and  said  significantly: 

"  I  pass." 

"  Oh,  then,  Sonora,"  suggested  the  Girl,  covering 
up  her  embarrassment  as  best  she  could,  "  won't  you 
make  a  speech?  " 

"Me  —  speak?"  exploded  Sonora;  and  again? 
«  Me  —  speak  ?  Oh,  the  devil !  " 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      305 

"  Sh-sh !  "  came  warningly  from  several  of  the 
boys. 

"  Why,  I  didn't  mean  that,  o'  course,"  apologised 
Sonora,  colouring,  and  incidentally  expectorating  on 
Bucking  Billy's  boots.  But  to  his  infinite  sorrow  no 
protest  worthy  of  the  word  was  forthcoming  from 
the  apparently  insensible  Bucking  Billy. 

"  Go  on !     Go  on !  "  urged  the  school. 

Sonora  coughed  behind  his  hand;  then  he  began 
his  address. 

"  Gents,  I  look  on  this  place  as  something  more  'n 
a  place  to  sit  around  an'  spit  on  —  the  stove.  I 
claim  that  there's  culture  in  the  air  o'  Californay  an' 
we're  here  to  buck  up  again  it  an'  hook  on." 

"Hear I  Hear!  Hear!"  voiced  the  men  to- 
gether, while  their  fists  came  down  heavily  upon  the 
improvised  desks  before  them. 

"  With  these  remarks,"  concluded  Sonora,  "  I 
set."  And  suiting  the  action  to  the  word  he 
plumped  himself  down  heavily  upon  the  bench,  but 
only  to  rise  again  quickly  with  a  cry  of  pain  and 
strike  Trinidad  a  fierce  blow,  who,  he  rightly  sus- 
pected, was  responsible  for  the  pin  that  had  found 
a  lodging-place  in  the  seat  of  his  trousers. 

At  that  not  even  the  Girl's  remonstrances  pre- 
vented the  boys,  who  had  been  silent  as  mice  all  the 
time  that  the  instrument  of  torture  was  being  ad- 
justed, from  giving  vent  to  roars  of  laughter;  and 


306      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

for  a  moment  things  in  the  school-room  were  de- 
cidedly boisterous. 

' "  Sit  down,  boys,  sit  down  1  "  ordered  the  Girl 
again  and  again;  but  it  was  some  moments  before  she 
could  get  the  school  under  control.  When,  finally, 
the  skylarking  had  ceased,  the  Girl  said  in  a  voice 
which,  despite  its  strange  weariness,  was  music  to 
their  ears : 

44  Once  more  we  meet  together.  There's  ben  a 
lot  happened  o'  late  that  has  learned  me  that  p'r'aps 
I  don't  know  as  much  as  I  tho't  I  did,  an'  I  can't 
teach  you  much  more.  But  if  you're  willin'  to  take 
me  for  what  I  am  —  jest  a  woman  who  wants  things 
better,  who  wants  everybody  all  they  ought  to  be, 
why  I'm  willin'  to  rise  with  you  an'  help  reach 
out — "  She  stopped  abruptly,  for  Handsome  was 
waving  his  hand  excitedly  at  her,  and  asked  a  trifle 
impatiently:  44  What  is  it,  Handsome?" 

Handsome  rose  and  hurriedly  went  over  to  her. 

*4  Whisky,  teacher,  whisky  1     I  want  it  so  bad  — " 

The  school  rose  to  its  feet  as  one  man. 

"  Teacher !  Teacher  I  "  came  tumultuously  from 
all,  their  hands  waving  frantically  in  the  air.  And 
then  without  waiting  for  permission  to  speak  the  cry 
went  up :  "  Whisky  I  Whisky !  " 

44  No,  no  whisky,"  she  denied  them  flatly. 

Gradually  the  commotion  subsided,  for  all  knew 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      307 

that  she  meant  what  she  said,  at  least  for  the  moment. 

"  An'  now  jest  a  few  words  more  on  the  subject 
o'  not  settin'  judgment  on  the  errin' —  a  subject  near 
my  heart." 

This  remark  of  the  Girl's  brought  forth  murmurs 
of  wonder,  and  in  the  midst  of  them  the  door  was 
pushed  slowly  inward  and  The  Sidney  Duck,  wearing 
the  deuce  of  spades  which  the  Sheriff  had  pinned  to 
his  jacket  when  he  banished  him  from  their  presence 
for  cheating  at  cards,  stood  on  the  threshold,  look- 
ing uncertainly  about  him.  At  once  all  eyes  were 
focused  upon  him. 

"Git!  Git!"  shouted  the  men,  angrily.  This 
was  followed  by  a  general  movement  towards  him, 
which  so  impressed  The  Sidney  Duck  that  he  turned 
on  his  heel  and  was  fleeing  for  his  life  when  a  cry 
from  the  Girl  stopped  him. 

"  Boys,  boys,"  said  the  Girl  in  a  reproving  voice, 
which  silenced  them  almost  instantly ;  then,  beckon- 
ing to  Sid  to  approach,  she  went  on  in  her  most 
gentle  tones:  "  I  was  jest  gittin'  to  you,  Sid,  as  I 
promised.  You  can  stay." 

Looking  like  a  whipped  dog  The  Sidney  Duck  ad- 
vanced warily  towards  her. 

Sonera's  brow  grew  thunderous. 

"  What,  here  among  gentlemen?  " 

And  that  his  protest  met  with  instantaneous  ap« 


308      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

proval  was  shown  by  the  way  the  miners  shifted  un- 
easily in  their  seats  and  shouted  threateningly : 

"Git!     Git!" 

"  Why,  the  fellow's  a  — "  began  Trinidad,  but  got 
no  further,  for  the  Girl  stopped  him  by  exclaiming: 

"  I  know,  I  know,  Trin  —  I've  tho't  it  all  over !  " 

For  the  next  few  minutes  the  Girl  stood  strangely 
still  and  her  face  became  very  grave.  Never  before 
had  the  men  seen  her  in  a  mood  like  this,  and  they 
exchanged  wondering  glances.  Presently  she  said: 

"  Boys,  of  late  a  man  in  trouble  has  been  on  my 
mind  — "  She  paused,  her  glance  having  caught  the 
peculiar  light  which  her  words  had  caused  to  appear 
in  Ranee's  eyes,  and  lest  he  should  misunderstand  her 
meaning,  she  hastened  to  add:  "Sid,  o'  course, — 
an'  I  fell  to  thinkin'  o'  the  Prodigal  Son.  He  done 
better,  didn't  he?  " 

"  But  a  card  sharp,"  objected  Sonora  from  the 
depths  of  his  big  voice. 

"Yes,  that's  what!"  interjected  Trinidad,  bel- 
ligerently. 

The  Girl's  eyebrows  lifted  and  a  shade  of  resent- 
ment was  in  the  answering  voice : 

"  But  s'pose  there  was  a  moment  in  his  life  when 
he  was  called  upon  to  find  a  extra  ace  —  can't  we 
forgive  'im?  He  says  he's  sorry  —  ain't  you,  Sid?  " 

All  the  while  the  Girl  had  been  speaking  The 
Sidney  Duck  kept  his  eyes  lowered  and  was  swallow- 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      309 

ing  nervously.  Now  he  raised  them  and,  with  a 
feeble  attempt  to  simulate  penitence,  he  acknowl- 
edged that  he  had  done  wrong.  Nevertheless,  he 
declared : 

"  But  if  I  'adn't  got  caught  things  would  'a'  been 
different.  Oh,  yes,  I'm  sorry." 

In  an  instant  the  Girl  was  at  his  side  removing  the 
deuce  of  spades  from  his  coat. 

"  Sid,  you  git  your  chance,"  she  said  with  trem- 
bling lips.  "  Now  go  an'  sit  down." 

A  broad  smile  was  creeping  over  The  Sidney 
Duck's  countenance  as  he  moved  towards  the 
others;  but  Happy  took  it  upon  himself  to  limit  its 
spread. 

"  Take  that!  "  he  blazed,  striking  the  man  in  the 
face.  "  And  git  out  of  here  I  " 

"  Happy,  Happy !  "  cried  the  Girl.  Her  voice 
was  so  charged  with  reproach  that  The  Sidney  Duck 
was  allowed  by  the  men  to  pass  on  without  any  fur- 
ther molestation.  Nevertheless,  when  he  attempted 
to  sit  beside  them,  they  moved  as  far  away  as  possible 
from  him  and  compelled  him  to  take  a  stool  that 
stood  apart  from  the  benches  which  held  them  to- 
gether in  friendly  proximity. 

At  this  point  Trinidad  inquired  of  the  Girl 
whether  she  meant  to  infer  that  honesty  was  not  the 
best  policy,  and  by  way  of  illustration,  he  went  on  to 
say: 


310      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

u  S'posin'  my  watch  had  no  works  an'  I  was  to 
sell  it  to  the  Sheriff  for  one  hundred  dollars.  Would 
you  have  much  respect  for  me?  " 

For  the  briefest  part  of  a  second  the  Girl  seemed 
to  be  reflecting. 

"  I'd  have  more  respect  for  you  than  for  the 
Sheriff,"  she  answered  succinctly. 

"Hurrah!  Whoopee!  Whoop!"  yelled  the 
men,  who  were  delighted  both  with  what  she  said 
as  well  as  her  pert  way  of  saying  it. 

It  was  in  the  midst  of  these  shouts  that  Billy 
Jackrabbit  and  Wowkle,  unobserved  by  the  others, 
quietly  stole  into  the  room  and  squatted  themselves 
down  under  the  blackboard.  When  the  merriment 
had  subsided  Ranee  rose  and  took  the  floor.  His 
face  was  paler  than  usual,  though  his  voice  was 
calm  when  presently  he  said: 

"  Well,  bein'  Sheriff,  I'm  careful  about  my  com- 
pany —  I'll  sit  in  the  bar.  Cheats  and  road 
agents  " —  and  here  he  paused  meaningly  and  glanced 
from  The  Sidney  Duck  to  the  Girl  — "  ar'n't  jest  in 
my  line.  I  walk  in  the  open  road  with  my  head  up 
and  my  face  to  the  sun,  and  whatever  I've  pulled  up, 
you'll  remark  I've  always  played  square  and  stood 
by  the  cyards." 

"  I  know,  I  know,"  observed  the  Girl  and  fell 
wearily  into  her  seat;  the  next  instant  she  went  on 
more  confidently :  "  An'  that's  the  way  to  travel  — 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      311 

in  the  straight  road.  But  if  ever  I  don't  travel  that 
road,  or  you  — " 

"  You  always  will,  you  bet,"  observed  Nick  with 
feeling. 

"  You  bet  she  will !  "  shouted  the  others. 

"  But  if  I  don't,"  continued  the  Girl,  insistently, 
"  I  hope  there'll  be  someone  to  lead  me  back  — 
back  to  the  right  road.  'Cause  remember,  Ranee, 
some  of  us  are  lucky  enough  to  be  born  good,  while 
others  have  to  be  'lected." 

"  That's  eloquence !  "  cried  Sonora,  moved  almost 
to  tears;  while  Ranee  took  a  step  forward  as  if  about 
to  make  some  reply;  but  the  next  instant,  his  head 
held  no  longer  erect  and  his  face  visibly  twitching, 
he  passed  into  the  bar-room. 

A  silence  reigned  for  a  time,  which  was  broken  at 
last  by  the  Girl  announcing  with  great  solemnity : 

"  If  anybody  can  sing  '  My  Country  'Tis,'  Acad- 
emy's opened." 

At  this  request,  really  of  a  physical  nature,  and 
advanced  in  a  spirit  of  true  modesty,  all  present, 
curiously  enough,  seemed  to  have  lost  their  voices 
and  nudged  one  another  in  an  endeavour  to  get  the 
hymn  started.  Someone  insisted  that  Sonora  should 
go  ahead,  but  that  worthy  pupil  objected  giving  as 
his  excuse,  obviously  a  paltry  one  and  trumped  up 
for  the  occasion,  that  he  did  not  know  the  words. 
There  was  nothing  to  it,  therefore,  but  that  the  In- 


312      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

dians  should  render  the  great  American  anthem. 
And  so,  standing  stolidly  facing  the  others,  their 
high-pitched,  nasal  voices  presently  began: 

"  My  country  'tis  of  thee, 
Sweet  land  of  liberty, 
Of  thee  I  sing" 

*'  Well,  if  that  ain't  sarkism !  "  interjected  Sonora 
between  the  lines  of  the  hymn. 

"  Land  where  our  fathers  died — " 

"  You  bet  they  died  hard !  "  cut  in  Trinidad,  roll- 
ing his  eyes  upward  in  a  comical  imitation  of  the 
Indians. 

"  Land  of  the  Pilgrim's  pride, 
From  every  mountain  side 
Let  freedom  ring." 

All  the  while  the  Indians  were  singing  the  last 
lines  of  the  hymn  the  Girl's  face  was  a  study  in 
reminiscent  dreams,  but  when  they  had  finished  and 
were  leaving  the  room,  she  came  back  to  earth,  as 
it  were,  and  clapped  her  hands,  an  appreciation 
which  brought  forth  from  Wowkle  a  grateful 
"Huh!" 

"  I  would  like  to  read  you  a  little  verse  from  a 
book  of  poems,"  presently  went  on  the  teacher;  and 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      313 

when  the  men  had  given  her  their  attention,  she  read 
with  much  feeling: 

"  '  No  star  is  ever  lost  we  once  have  seen, 

We  always  may  be  what  we  might  have  been.'  " 

"Why,  what's  the  matter?"  inquired  Sonora, 
greatly  moved  at  the  sight  of  the  tears  which,  of  a 
sudden,  began  to  run  down  the  teacher's  cheeks. 

"  Why,  what's  —  ?  "  came  simultaneously  from 
the  others,  words  failing  them. 

"  Nothin',  nothin',  only  it  jest  came  over  me  that 
I'll  be  leavin'  you  soon,"  stammered  the  Girl.  "  How 
can  I  do  it?  How  can  I  do  it?  "  she  wailed. 

Sonora  gazed  at  her  unbelievingly. 

"Do  what?  "he  said. 

"  What  did  she  say?  "  questioned  Trinidad. 

Now  Sonora  went  over  to  her,  and  asked: 

"What  d'you  say?     Why,  what's  the  matter?" 

Slowly  the  Girl  raised  her  head  and  looked  at  him 
through  half-closed  lids,  the  tears  that  still  clung  to 
them,  blinding  her  almost.  Plainly  audible  in  the 
silence  of  the  room  the  seconds  ticked  away  on  the 
clock,  and  still  she  did  not  speak;  at  last  she  mur- 
mured: 

"  Oh,  it's  nothin',  nothin',  only  I  jest  remembered 
I've  promised  to  leave  Cloudy  soon  an',  p'r'aps,  we 
might  never  be  together  again  —  you  an'  me  an'  The 


3*4      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

Polka.  Oh,  it  took  me  jest  like  that  when  I  seen 
your  dear,  ol'  faces,  your  dear,  plucky,  ol'  faces  an' 
realised  that — "  She  could  not  go  on,  and  buried 
her  face  in  her  hands,  her  glistening  blonde  head 
shaking  with  her  Sobs. 

It  was  thus  that  the  Sheriff,  entering  a  moment 
later,  found  her.  Without  a  word  he  resumed  his 
seat  in  front  of  the  fire. 

Sonora  continued  to  stare  blankly  at  her.  He  was 
too  dazed  to  speak,  much  less  to  think.  He  broke 
silence  slowly. 

"  What  —  you  leavin'  us  ?  " 

"  Leavin'  us?  "  inquired  Happy,  incredulously. 

"  Careful,  girl,  careful,"  warned  Nick,  softly. 

The  Girl  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then  went  reck- 
lessly on: 

"  It's  bound  to  happen  soon." 

Sonora  looked  more  puzzled  than  ever;  he  rested 
his  hand  upon  her  desk  as  if  to  support  himself,  and 
said: 

"  I  don't  quite  understand.  Great  Gilead  I  We 
done  anythin'  to  offend  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  no,  no !  "  she  hastened  to  assure  him,  at 
the  same  time  letting  her  hand  rest  upon  his. 

But  this  explanation  did  not  satisfy  Sonora.  Anx- 
ious to  discover  what  she  had  at  heart  he  went  on 
sounding : 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      315 

"  Tired  of  us  ?  Ain't  we  got  style  enough  for 
you?" 

The  Girl  did  not  answer;  her  breathing,  swift  and 
short,  painfully  intensified  the  hush  that  had  fallen 
on  the  room ;  at  last,  the  boys  becoming  impatient 
began  to  bombard  her  with  questions. 

"  Be  you  goin'  to  show  them  Ridge  boys  we've 
petered  out  an'  culture's  a  dead  dog  here?"  began 
Happy,  rising. 

"  Do  you  want  them  to  think  Academy's  busted?  " 
asked  Handsome. 

"  Ain't  we  your  boys  no  more?  "  put  in  Trinidad, 
wistfully. 

"Ain't  I  your  boy?"  asked  Sonora,  sentimen- 
tally. "Why,  what  is  it,  Girl?  Has  anybody  — 
tell  me  —  perhaps  — " 

The  Girl  raised  her  head  and  dried  her  eyes ;  when 
she  spoke  one  could  have  heard  a  pin  drop. 

"  Oh,  no,  no,  no,"  she  said  with  averted  face,  and 
added  tremulously:  "  There,  we  won't  say  no  more 
about  it.  Let's  forgit  it.  Only  when  I  go  away  I 
want  to  leave  the  key  o'  my  cabin  with  Old  Sonora 
here,  an'  I  want  you  all  to  come  up  sometimes,  an' 
to  think  o'  me  as  the  girl  who  loved  you  all,  an'  some- 
times is  wishin'  you  well,  an'  I  want  to  think  o' 
little  Nick  here  runnin'  my  bar  an'  not  givin'  the  boys 
too  much  whisky."  Her  words  died  away  in  a  sob 


316      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

and  her  head  fell  forward,  her  hand,  the  while,  rest- 
ing upon  Nick's  shoulder. 

At  last,  Sonora  saw  what  lay  beneath  her  tears; 
the  situation  was  all  too  clear  to  him  now. 

"  Hold  on !  "  he  cried  hoarsely.  "  There's  jest  one 
reason  for  the  Girl  to  leave  her  home  an'  friends  — 
only  one :  There  must  be  some  fellow  away  from 
here  that  she  —  that  she  likes  better  'n  she  does  any 
of  us."  And  turning  once  more  upon  the  Girl,  he 
demanded  excitedly:  "  Is  that  it?  Speak!  " 

The  Girl  raised  her  tear-stained  face  and  looked 
him  in  the  eye. 

"  Likes  — "  she  repeated  with  a  world  of  meaning 
in  her  voice  — "  in  a  different  way,  yes." 

"  Well,  so  help  me !  "  ejaculated  Happy,  unhap- 
pily, while  Sonora,  with  head  bent  low,  went  over 
to  his  seat. 

The  next  moment  the  boys  of  the  front  rows  had 
joined  those  of  the  rear  and  were  grouping  them- 
selves together  to  discuss  the  situation. 

"Sure  you  ain't  makin'  a  mistake?"  Trinidad 
questioned  suddenly. 

The  Girl  came  down  from  her  seat  on  the  plat- 
form and  went  over  to  them. 

"  Mistake,"  she  repeated  dreamily.  "  Oh,  no,  no, 
no,  boys,  there's  no  mistake  about  this.  Oh,  Trin !  " 
she  burst  out  tearfully,  and  two  soft  arms  crept  gently 


GIRL  OF  THE  UOLDEN  WEST      317 

about     his     neck.     "  An'     Sonora  —  Ah,     Sonora 
.     .     .      1  "     She  raised  herself  on  her  tiny  toes  and 
kissed  him  on  the  left  cheek. 
The  next  instant  she  was  gone. 


XVII 

WHATEVER  may  be  said  to  the  contrary,  there  art 
few  more  humiliating  moments  in  a  man's  life  than 
when  he  learns  that  some  other  person  has  supplanted 
him  in  the  affections  of  his  adored  one.  And  it  was 
the  Girl's  knowledge  of  this,  together  with  her  de. 
sire  to  spare  the  feelings  of  her  two  old  admirers, — 
for  in  her  nature  there  was  ever  that  thoughtfulness 
of  others  which  never  permitted  her  to  do  a  mean 
thing  to  anyone, —  that  had  caused  her  to  flee  so  pre- 
cipitously from  the  room. 

But  painful  as  was  their  humiliation  as  they  stood 
in  silence,  gazing  with  saddened  faces  at  the  door 
through  which  the  Girl  had  gone  out,  their  cup  of 
bitterness  was  not  yet  full.  The  next  moment  the 
Sheriff,  his  lips  curled  inscrutably,  said  mockingly : 

"  Well,  boys,  the  right  man  has  come  at  last. 
Take  your  medicine,  gentlemen." 

His  words  cut  Sonora  to  the  quick,  and  it  was  with 
difficulty  that  he  braced  himself  to  hear  the  worst. 

"Who's  the  man?"  he  inquired  gruffly. 

The  Sheriff's  eyes  fastened  themselves  upon  him; 
at  length  with  deadly  coldness  he  drawled  out: 

"  Johnson's  the  man." 

All  the  colour  went  out  of  Sonora's  face,  while  his 
lips  ejaculated: 

318 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      319 

"GolA'mighty!" 

"  You  lie !  "  blazed  Trinidad  in  the  next  breath, 
and  made  a  quick  movement  towards  the  Sher- 
iff. 

But  Ranee  was  not  to  be  denied.  Seeing  Nick  ad- 
vancing towards  them  he  called  upon  him  to  verify 
his  words;  but  that  individual  merely  looked  first  at 
one  and  then  the  other  and  did  not  answer,  which 
silence  infuriated  Sonora. 

"  Why,  you  toF  me  .  .  ?  "  he  said  with  an 
angry  look  in  his  eye. 

"  ToF  you,  Sonora  ?  Why  he  toF  me  the  same 
thing,"  protested  Trinidad  with  an  earnestness  that, 
at  any  other  time,  would  have  sent  his  listeners  into 
fits  of  laughter. 

This  was  too  much  for  Sonora;  he  flew  into  a 
paroxysm  of  rage. 

"  Well,  for  a  first-class  liar     ...      1  " 

"  You  bet!  "  corroborated  Trinidad,  relapsing,  de- 
spite his  anger,  into  his  pet  phrase. 

For  some  minutes  the  dejected  suitors  continued  in 
this  strain,  now  arguing  and  then  condoling  with  one 
another,  the  boys,  meanwhile,  proceeding  to  clear 
the  school-room  of  the  benches,  casks  and  planks, 
lifting  or  rolling  them  back  into  place  as  if  they  were 
made  of  paper. 

All  of  a  sudden  Sonera's  face  cleared  perceptibly. 
Turning  swiftly  to  the  Sheriff,  who  sat  tilted  back  iti 


320      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

a  chair  before  the  fire,  he  said  with  unexpected  cheer- 
fulness of  voice : 

"  Why,  Johnson's  dead.     He  got  away,  an' — " 

"  Yes,  he  got  away,"  remarked  Ranee,  dully,  shak- 
ing the  ashes  from  his  cigar,  which  answer,  together 
with  the  peculiar  look  which  Sonora  saw  on  the  other's 
face,  made  him  at  once  suspicious  that  something 
was  being  held  back  from  them  which  they  had  a 
right  to  know.  It  came  about,  therefore,  that,  with 
a  hasty  movement  towards  the  Sheriff,  his  eyes  glar- 
ing, his  voice  husky,  Sonora  demanded: 

"  Jack  Ranee,  I  call  on  you  as  Sheriff  for  John- 
son !  He  was  in  your  county." 

Instantly  the  cry  was  taken  up  by  the  others,  but 
it  was  Trinidad  who,  shaking  his  fist  in  Ranee's  face, 
supplemented: 

"  You  hustle  up  an'  run  a  bridle  through  your  p'int 
o'  teeth  or  your  boom  for  re-election  's  over,  you  lily- 
fingered  gambler!  " 

But  the  Sheriff  did  not  move  a  muscle,  though  after 
a  moment  he  answered  coolly: 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know  as  I  give  a  damn  .  .  .  I  " 
Which  reply,  to  say  the  least,  was  somewhat  discon- 
certing to  the  men  who  had  surrounded  him  and  were 
eyeing  him  threateningly. 

"  No  talk  —  we  want  Johnson,"  insisted  Trinidad, 
hotly. 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      321 

"  We  want  Johnson,"  echoed  the  crowd  in  low, 
tense  voices,  their  fists  clenched. 

And  still  Ranee  did  not  waver,  but  calmly  puffing 
away  at  his  long,  black  cigar  he  looked  blankly  into 
space.  Presently  a  voice  outside  calling,  "  Boys !  M 
sounded  throughout  the  room  and  brought  him 
back  to  actuality.  He  sat  straight  up  in  his  chair 
while  Nick,  shifting  uneasily  about  on  his  feet, 
muttered : 

11  Why,  that's  Ashby!" 

"  Oh,  if — •"  began  the  Sheriff  and  stopped.  The 
next  instant  the  Wells  Fargo  Agent,  a  cool,  trium- 
phant look  on  his  face,  stood  framed  in  the  doorway. 
With  a  hasty  movement  towards  him  Ranee  asked 
tensely :  "  Did  you  get  him  ?  " 

The  answer  came  back,  almost  before  the  question 
was  asked: 

"  Yes  —  weVe  got  him." 

"Not  Johnson?"  demanded  Sonora,  truculently. 

"  Yes,  Johnson,"  affirmed  the  Wells  Fargo  Agent 
with  a  hard  laugh,  his  eyes  the  while  upon  Handsome, 
who,  unaided,  was  lifting  a  heavy  cask  to  a  bench ; 
near  by. 

11  Not  alive  ?  "  questioned  Trinidad,  unwilling  to 
trust  his  own  ears. 

"  You  bet !  "  was  Ashby's  sententious  confirmation, 
at  which  pandemonium  broke  loose,  Niek  alone  ap- 


322      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

pearing  dejected  and  morose-looking.  For  his  love 
and  devotion  to  the  Girl  were  too  genuine  to  permit 
of  his  taking  any  part  whatsoever  in  what  he  believed 
was  opposed  to  her  happiness.  On  the  other  hand, 
Ranee,  as  may  be  inferred,  was  inwardly  rejoicing, 
though  when  he  perceived  that  Nick  was  eyeing  him 
steadily  he  was  careful  to  lower  his  eyes  lest  the  little 
barkeeper  should  see  the  triumph  shining  beneath 
them.  And,  finally,  unable  to  bear  Nick's  scrutiny 
any  longer,  he  explained  with  a  feeble  attempt  at 
self-defence : 

"  Well,  I  didn't  do  it,  Nick,  I  didn't  do  it."  But 
a  moment  later,  his  face  hard  and  set,  he  added: 
"  Now  he  be  damned  I  There's  an  end  of  John- 
son !  " 

The  words  were  hardly  out  of  his  mouth,  however, 
than  Johnson,  his  arms  bound,  followed  by  the  Dep- 
uty, strode  into  the  room  with  the  courage  of  one 
who  has  long  faced  death,  and  stood  before  the  men 
who  glared  at  him  with  fire  in  their  eyes  and  murder 
in  their  hearts. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Johnson.  I  think,  Mr. 
Johnson,  five  minutes  will  do  for  you."  Ranee  gave 
to  the  words  a  peculiar  accent  and  inflection,  but  this 
caused  the  prisoner  to  look  even  more  composed  and 
calm  than  before;  he  returned  crisply: 

"  I  think  so." 

"  So  this  is  the  gentleman  the  Girl  loves?  "     So- 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST     323 

nora's  face  wore  a  cruel  grin  as  he  stood  with  arms 
folded  leering  at  the  prisoner. 

The  biting  humour  of  the  thought  appealed  to 
Ranee,  and  he  smiled  grimly  to  himself. 

"  That's  the  gentleman  " —  he  was  saying  when  a 
voice  outside  broke  in  upon  his  words  with: 

"Nick!     Boys!     Boys!" 

"  It's  the  Girl!  "  cried  Nick  in  dismay,  at  the  same 
time  rushing  over  to  the  door  to  intercept  her;  while 
Ashby,  desirous  of  preventing  any  communication  be- 
tween the  Girl  and  the  prisoner  took  up  a  position 
between  them  —  unnecessary  precautions,  since  the 
Girl  had  no  intention  of  re-entering  the  room,  but 
wished  merely  to  say  that  she  had  forgotten  that  it 
was  recess  and  that  the  boys  might  have  one  drink. 

At  the  sound  of  her  voice  Johnson  paled.  He 
listened  to  her  retreating  steps,  then  turning  towards 
Nick  he  asked  him  to  lock  the  door. 

"  Why,  the  devil  .  .  . !  "  objected  the  Sheriff, 
angrily. 

"  Please,"  urged  the  prisoner  with  such  a  look  of 
entreaty  in  his  eyes  that  Nick  could  not  find  it  in  his 
heart  to  deny  him,  and  went  forthwith  to  the  door 
and  locked  it. 

"  Why,  you  — "  began  Sonora  with  a  hurried 
movement  towards  the  prisoner. 

"  You  keep  out  of  this,  Sonora,"  enjoined  the 
Sheriff,  coming  forward  to  take  a  hand  in  the  pro- 


324      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

ceedings.     "  I    handle    the    rope  —  pick    the    tree 
it 

"  Then  hurry.  .  .  ."  said  Sonora,  impatiently, 
while  Trinidad  interposed  with  his  usual,  "  You  bet !  " 

"  One  moment,"  said  the  prisoner  as  the  miners 
started  to  go  out;  and,  strange  to  relate,  the  Sheriff 
ordered  the  men  to  halt.  Turning  once  more  to  the 
prisoner,  he  said : 

"  Be  quick  —  what  is  it  ?  " 

"  It  is  true,"  began  the  unfortunate  road  agent  in 
an  even,  unemotional  voice,  "  that  I  love  the  Girl." 

At  these  words  Ranee's  arms  flew  up  threateningly, 
while  a  mocking  smile  sprang  to  his  lips. 

"  Well,  you  won't  in  a  minute,"  he  reminded  him 
grimly. 

The  taunt  brought  no  change  of  expression  to  the 
prisoner's  face  or  change  of  tone  in  his  voice  as  he 
went  on  to  say  that  he  did  not  care  what  they  did  to 
him;  that  he  was  prepared  for  anything;  and  that 
every  man  who  travelled  the  path  that  he  did  faced 
death  every  day  for  a  drink  of  water  or  ten  minutes' 
sleep,  concluding  calmly: 

"  You've  got  me  and  I  wouldn't  care  but  for  the 
Girl." 

"You've  got  just  three  minutes!  "  A  shade  al- 
most of  contempt  was  in  Sonora's  exclamation. 

"Yes     .     .     . !  "  blazed  Trinidad. 

There  was  an  impressive  silence;  then  in  a  voice 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      325 

that  trembled  strangely  between  pride  and  humility 
Johnson  continued : 

"  I  don't  want  her  to  know  my  end.  Why,  that 
would  be  an  awful  thought  for  her  to  go  on  with  all 
her  life  —  that  I  died  out  there  —  near  at  hand. 
Why,  boys,  she  couldn't  stay  here  after  that  —  she 
couldn't  .  .  ." 

"  That's  understood,"  replied  Ranee,  succinctly. 

"  I'd  like  her  to  think,"  went  on  the  prisoner,  with 
difficulty  choking  back  the  tears,  "  that  I  got  away 
clear  and  went  East  and  changed  my  way  of  living. 
So  you  just  drag  me  a  good  ways  from  here  before 
you  — "  He  stopped  abruptly  and  began  to  swal- 
low nervously.  W'hen  he  spoke  again  it  was  with  a 
perceptible  change  of  manner.  "  And  when  I  don't 
write  and  she  never  hears  why  she  will  say,  '  he's  for- 
gotten me,'  and  that  will  be  about  enough  for  her  to 
remember,  because  she  loved  me  before  she  knew 
what  I  was  —  and  you  can't  change  love  in  a  min- 
ute." 

All  the  while  Johnson  had  been  speaking  the 
Sheriff's  jealousy  had  been  growing  steadily  until, 
finally,  turning  upon  the  other  with  a  succession  of 
oaths  he  struck  him  a  fierce  blow  in  the  face. 

"  I  don't  blame  you,"  returned  the  prisoner  with- 
out a  trace  of  malice  in  his  voice.  "  Strike  me  again 
—  strike  me  —  one  death  is  not  enough  for  me. 
Damn  me  —  I  wish  you  could.  .  .  .  Oh,  why 


326      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

couldn't  I  have  let  her  pass !  I'm  sorry  I  came  her 
way  —  but  it's  too  late  now,  it's  too  late  .  .  ." 

Ranee,  not  in  the  least  affected  by  what  the  pris- 
oner had  been  saying,  asked  if  that  was  his  last  word. 

Johnson  nodded. 

Trinidad,  simultaneously  with  his  nod,  snapped 
his  finger,  indicating  that  the  prisoner's  time  was 
up. 

"  Dep !  "  called  the  Sheriff,  sharply. 

The  Deputy  came  forward  and  took  his  prisoner 
in  charge. 

"  Good-bye,  sir!  "  said  Nick,  who  was  visibly  af- 
fected. 

"  Good-bye  I  "  returned  the  prisoner,  briefly. 
"  You  tell  the  Girl  —  no,  come  to  think  of  it,  Nick, 
don't  say  anything  .  .  ." 

"  Come  on,  you !  "  ordered  Happy. 

Whereupon  with  a  shout  and  an  imprecation  the 
men  removed  en  masse  to  the  door. 

"  Boys,"  intervened  Nick  at  this  juncture,  rushing 
into  their  midst,  "  when  Alliger  was  hanged  Ranee 
let  'im  see  his  sweetheart.  I  think,  considerin'  as  how 
she  ain't  goin'  to  see  no  more  o'  Mr.  Johnson  here,  an' 
knowin'  the  Girl's  feelin's  —  well,  I  think  she  ought 
to  have  a  chance  to  — " 

Nick  was  not  allowed  to  finish,  for  instantly  the 
men  were  up  in  arms  raising  a  most  vigorous  ob- 
jection to  his  proposal;  but,  notwithstanding,  Nick, 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST     327 

evidently  bent  upon  calling  the  Girl,  started  for  the 
door. 

"  No,"  objected  Ranee,  obstinately. 

The  road  agent  took  a  step  forward  and,  turning 
upon  the  Sheriff  with  a  desperately  hopeless  expres- 
sion upon  his  face,  he  said: 

"  Jack  Ranee,  there  were  two  of  us  —  I've  had  my 
chance.  Inside  of  ten  minutes  I'll  be  dead  and  it 
will  be  all  your  way.  Couldn't  you  let  me  — " 

He  paused,  and  ended  almost  piteously  with: 
"  Oh,  I  thought  I'd  have  the  courage  not  to  ask,  but, 
Oh,  couldn't  you  let  me  —  couldn't  you  — " 

Once  more  Nick  intervened  by  shrewdly  prevari- 
cating: 

"Here's  the  Girl,  boys!" 

But  this  ruse  «f  Nick's  met  with  no  greater  success 
than  his  previous  efforts,  for  Ranee,  putting  his  foot 
down  heavily  upon  the  stove,  voiced  a  vigorous  pro- 
test 

"  All  right,"  said  the  prisoner,  resignedly.  Nev- 
ertheless, his  face  reflected  his  disappointment. 
Turning  now  to  Nick  he  thanked  him  for  his  efforts 
in  his  behalf. 

"  You  must  excuse  Ranee,"  remarked  the  little  bar- 
keeper with  a  significant  look  at  the  Sheriff,  "  for  bein' 
so  small  a  man  as  to  deny  the  usual  cour-tesies,  but 
he  ain't  quite  himself." 

Weary  of  their  cavilling,  for  he  believed  that  in 


328      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

the  end  the  Sheriff  would  carry  his  point,  and  deter- 
mined to  go  before  his  courage  failed  him,  Johnson 
made  a  movement  towards  the  door.  Speaking 
bravely,  though  his  voice  trembled,  he  said: 

"  Come,  boys  —  come." 

But,  odd  as  it  may  seem,  Nick's  words  had  taken 
root. 

"  Wait  a  minute,"  Ranee  temporised. 

The  prisoner  halted. 

"  I  don't  know  that  I'm  so  small  a  man  as  to  deny 
the  usual  courtesies,  since  you  put  it  that  way,"  con- 
tinued Ranee.  "  I  always  have  extended  them.  But 
we'll  hear  what  you  have  to  say  —  that's  our  protec- 
tion. And  it  might  interest  some  of  us  to  hear  what 
the  Girl  will  have  to  say  to  you,  Mr.  Johnson  — 
after  a  week  in  her  cabin  there  may  be  more  to  know 
than—" 

Fire  leapt  to  Johnson's  eyes ;  he  cried  hoarsely  — 

"  Stop !  " 

"  Ranee,  you  don't  know  what  you're  sayin',"  re- 
sented Nick,  casting  hard  looks  at  him ;  while  Sonora 
put  a  heavy  hand  upon  the  Sheriff  and  threatened 
him  with: 

"  Now,  Ranee,  you  stop  that  1  " 

"  We'll  hear  every  word  he  has  to  say,"  insisted 
the  Sheriff,  doggedly. 

"You  bet!"  affirmed  Trinidad. 

"  Nick !     Nick !  "  called  the  Girl  once  more,  and 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      329 

while  the  little  barkeeper  went  over  to  admit  her  the 
Wells  Fargo  Agent  took  his  leave,  calling  back  after 
him: 

"  Well,  boys,  you've  got  him  safe  —  I  can't  wait 
—  I'm  off!" 

"  Dep,  untie  the  prisoner!  Boys,  circle  round  the 
bar !  Trin,  put  a  man  at  that  door  I  And  Sonora, 
put  a  couple  of  men  at  those  windows !  "  And  so 
swift  were  the  men  in  carrying  out  his  instructions, 
that  even  as  he  spoke,  everyone  was  at  his  post,  the 
Sheriff  himself  and  Sonora  remaining  unseen  but  on 
guard  at  the  doors,  while  the  prisoner,  edging  up 
close  to  the  door,  was  not  in  evidence  when  the  Girl 
entered. 

"  You  can  think  of  something  to  tell  her  —  lie  to 
her,"  had  been  the  Sheriff's  parting  suggestion. 

"  I'll  let  her  think  I  risked  coming  back  to  see  her 
again,"  had  replied  the  prisoner,  his  throat  trem- 
bling. 

"  She  won't  know  it's  for  the  last  time  —  we'll  be 
there,"  had  come  warningly  from  the  Sheriff  as  he 
pointed  to  the  door  that  led  to  the  bar-room. 


"  Why,  what  have  you  got  the  door  barred  for?  " 
asked  the  Girl  as  she  came  into  the  room;  and  then 
without  waiting  for  an  answer :  "  Why,  where  are 
the  boys?" 


330      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

"  Well,  you  see,  the  boys  —  the  boys  has  —  has 
— "  began  Nick  confusedly  and  stopped. 

"  The  boys  — "  There  was  a  question  in  the  Girl's 
voice. 

"  Has  gone." 

"Gone  where?'* 

"  Why,  to  the  Palmetter,"  came  out  feebly  from 
Nick;  and  then  with  a  sudden  change  of  manner,  he 
added :  "  Oh,  say,  Girl,  I  likes  you !  "  And  here  he 
laid  his  hand  affectionately  upon  her  shoulder. 
"  You've  been  my  religion  —  the  bar  an'  you.  Why, 
you  don't  never  want  to  leave  us  —  why,  I'd  drop 
dead  Tor  you." 

"  Nick,  you're  very  nice  to  — "  began  the  Girl, 
gratefully,  and  stopped,  for  at  that  instant  a  gentle 
tap  came  upon  the  door.  Turning  swiftly,  she  saw 
Johnson  coming  towards  her. 

"  Girl  1  "  he  cried  in  an  agony  of  joy,  and  held  out 
his  arms  to  receive  her. 

"You?     You?"  she  admonished  softly. 

"  Don't  say  a  word,"  he  whispered  hurriedly 

"  You  shouldn't  have  come  back,"  she  said  with 
knitted  brow. 

"  I  had  to  —  to  say  good-bye  once  more."  And 
his  voice  was  so  filled  with  tenderness  that  she  readily 
forgave  him  for  the  indiscretion. 

"  It's  all  right,  it's  all  right,"  murmured  Nick,  his 
hand  still  on  the  door,  which  he  had  taken  the  pre- 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      331 

caution  to  bolt  after  the  Girl  had  passed  through 
it. 

There  was  a  moment's  silence ;  then,  going  over  to 
the  windows,  the  Girl  pulled  down  the  curtains. 

"  The  boys  are  good  for  quite  a  little  bit,"  she  said 
as  she  came  back.  "  Don't  git  nervous  —  I'll  give 
you  warnin'  .  .  ." 

Nick,  unwilling  to  witness  the  heartrending  scene 
which  he  foresaw  would  follow,  noiselessly  withdrew 
into  the  bar-room,  leaving  the  prisoner  alone  with 
the  Girl. 

"  Don't  be  afraid,  my  Girl,"  said  Johnson,  softly. 

But  the  Girl's  one  thought,  after  her  first  gladness, 
was  of  his  safety: 

"  But  you  can't  git  away  now  without  bein'  seen?  " 

"  Yes,  there's  another  way  out  of  Cloudy, —  and 
I'm  going  to  take  it." 

The  grimness  of  his  meaning  was  lost  on  the  Girl, 
who  answered  urgently: 

"  Then  go  —  go !     Don't  wait,  go  now !  " 

Johnson  smiled  a  sad  little  smile : 

"  But  remember  that  I'm  sorry  for  the  past,  and  — 
and  don't  forget  me,"  he  said,  with  an  odd  break  in 
his  voice, —  so  odd  that  it  roused  the  Girl  into  startled 
wonderment. 

"Forget  you?     Why,  Dick     .     .     .!" 

"  I  mean,  till  we  meet  again,"  he  reassured  her 
hastily. 


332      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

The  Girl  heaved  a  troubled  sigh.  Her  fears  for 
him  were  still  on  edge.  Then,  with  a  nervous  start, 
she  asked : 

"Did  he  call?" 

"  No.  He'll  —  he'll  warn  me,"  Johnson  told  her 
unsteadily. 

"  Oh,  every  day  that  dawns  I'll  wait  for  a  message 
from  you.  I'll  feel  you  wanting  me.  Every  night 
I'll  say  to-morrow,  and  every  to-morrow  I'll  say  to- 
day .  .  .  Oh,  you've  changed  the  whole  world 
for  me  1  I  can't  let  you  go,  but  I  must,  Dick,  I  must. 
.  .  ."  And  bursting  into  tears,  she  buried  her 
face  on  his  shoulder,  repeating  piteously,  between 
shaking  sobs,  "  Oh,  I'm  so  afraid, —  I'm  so 
afraid!" 

He  held  her  close,  the  strength  of  his  arms  around 
her  reassuring  her  silently.  "  Why,  you  mustn't  be 
afraid,"  he  said  in  tones  that  were  almost  steady. 
"  In  a  few  minutes  I'll  be  quite  free,  and  then  — " 

"  An'  you'll  make  a  little  home  for  me  when  you're 
free  —  soon  —  will  you  ?  "  asked  the  Girl,  with  a  wan 
smile  dawning  on  her  trembling  lips'.  She  was  dry- 
ing her  eyes  and  did  not  see  how  the  light  died  out  of 
the  man's  face,  as  he  gazed  down  at  her  hungrily, 
hopelessly.  This  time  he  could  not  trust  himself  to 
speak,  but  merely  nodded  "  yes." 

"  A  strange  feelin'  has  come  over  me,"  went  on 
the  Girl,  brokenly,  "  a  feelin'  to  hold  you  —  to  cling 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      333 

to  you  —  not  to  let  you  go.  Somethin'  in  my  heart 
keeps  sayin',  '  Don't  let  him  go !  '  ' 

Johnson  felt  his  knees  sagging  oddly  beneath  him. 
The  Girl's  sure  instinct  of  danger,  the  piteousness 
of  their  case,  were  making  a  coward  of  him.  He 
tore  himself  from  her  in  a  panic  desire  to  go  while 
he  still  had  the  manhood  to  play  his  part  to  the  end; 
then  suddenly  broke  down  completely,  and  with  his 
face  buried  in  his  hands,  sobbed  aloud. 

"  Why,  Girl,"  he  managed  to  say,  brokenly,  "  it's 
been  worth  —  the  whole  of  life  just  —  to  know  you. 
You've  brought  me  nearer  Heaven, —  you,  to  love  a 
manlike  mej  " 

"  Don't  say  that,  Oh,  don't  say  that,"  she  hastened 
to  say  with  a  great  tenderness  in  her  voice.  "  S'pose 
you  was  only  a  road  agent  an'  I  was  a  saloon  keeper. 
We  both  came  out  o'  nothin'  an'  we  met,  but  through 
lovin'  we're  goin'  to  reach  things  now  —  that's  us. 
We  had  to  be  lifted  up  like  this  to  be  saved." 

Johnson  tried  to  speak,  but  the  words  would  not 
come.  It  was,  therefore,  with  a  feeling  of  relief 
that,  presently,  he  heard  Nick  at  the  door,  saying, 
"  It's  all  clear  now." 

Johnson  wheeled  round,  but  Nick  had  flown. 
Turning  once  more  to  the  Girl,  he  said  with  trem- 
bling lips: 

"  Good-bye !  " 

The   Girl's  face  wore  a  puzzled  look,  and  she  told 


334      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEiN  WEST 

him  that  he  acted  as  if  they  were  never  going  to 
meet  again. 

"An'  we  are,  we  are,  ain't  we?"  she  questioned 
eagerly. 

A  faint  little  smile  hovered  about  the  corners  of 
the  road  agent's  mouth  when  presently  he  answered : 

"  Why,  surely  we  are     .     .     ." 

His  words  cleared  her  face  instantly. 

"  I  want  you  to  think  o'  me  here  jest  waitin',"  she 
said.  "  You  was  the  first  —  there'll  never  be  any- 
one but  you.  Why,  you're  the  man  I'd  want  sittin' 
across  the  table  if  there  was  a  little  kid  like  I  was 
playin'  under  it.  I  can't  say  no  mere  'n  that.  Only 
you  —  you  will  —  you  must  get  through  safe  an' 
come  back  —  an'  well,  think  o'  me  here  jest  waitin', 
jest  waitin',  waitin'  .  .  ." 

At  these  words  a  tightness  gripped  the  man's  throat, 
and  in  the  silence  that  followed  the  tears  ran  steadily 
down  his  cheeks. 

"  Oh,  Girl,  Girl,"  at  last  he  said,  "  that  first  night 
I  went  to  your  cabin  I  saw  you  kneeling,  praying. 
Say  that  in  your  heart  again  for  me  now.  Perhaps 
I  believe  it  —  perhaps  I  don't  ...  I  hope  1 
do  —  I  want  to  —  but  say  it,  say  it,  Girl,  just  for  the 
luck  of  it  —  say  it  .  .  ." 

Quickly  the  Girl  crossed  herself,  and  while  she  sent 
a  silent  prayer  to  Heaven  Johnson  knelt  at  her  knees, 
his  head  bowed  low. 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      335 

"  God  bless  you,"  he  murmured  when  the  prayer 
was  finished  and  arose  to  his  feet;  then  bending  over 
her  hand  he  touched  it  softly  with  his  lips. 

"  Good-bye !  "  he  said  chokingly  and  started  for 
the  door. 

"  Good-bye !  "  came  slowly  in  return,  her  face  no 
less  moist  than  his.  Presently  she  murmured  like 
one  in  a  dream :  "  Dick,  Dick !  " 

The  man  hastened  his  steps  and  did  not  turn.  At 
the  door,  however,  he  burst  out  in  an  agony  of  de- 
spair: "Girl!  Girl  .  .  .!" 

But  when  the  Girl  looked  up  he  had  reached  the 
open.  She  listened  a  moment  to  the  retreating  steps, 
then  raising  her  tear-stained  face  above  her  arms,  she 
sobbed  out:  "He's  gone  —  he's  gone  —  he's  gone 
.  .  . !  "  She  started  in  pursuit  of  him,  but  half- 
way across  the  room  she  fell  into  Nick's  arms,  crying 
out: 

"  He's  gone,  he's  gone,  he's  gone  I  Dick  I  Dick  1 
Dick  .  .  .1" 

Terribly  affected  at  the  sight  of  the  Girl's  sorrow, 
the  little  barkeeper  did  his  best  to  soothe  her,  now 
patting  her  little  blonde  head  as  it  rested  upon  his^ 
arm,  now  murmuring  words  of  loving  tenderness. 

Suddenly  she  raised  her  head,  and  then'it  was  that 
she  saw  for  the  first  time  the  men  standing  huddled 
together  near  the  door.  In  a  flash  the  truth  of  the 
situation  dawned  upon  her.  With  a  look  of  inde- 


336     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

scribable  horror  upon  her  face  she  turned  upon  Nick, 
turned  upon  them  all  with : 

"You  knew,  Nick  —  you  all  knew  you  had  'iml 
You  knew  you  had  'im  an'  you're  goin'  to  kill  'im! 
But  you  shan't  —  no,  you  shan't  kill  'im  —  you  shan't 
—  you  shan't  .  .  . !  " 

Once  more  she  started  in  pursuit  of  her  lover,  but 
only  to  fall  with  her  face  against  the  door,  sobbing 
as  if  her  heart  would  break. 

Outside  there  was  nothing  in  the  enchanting  scene 
to  suggest  finality.  Nature  never  was  more  prodigal 
of  her  magic  beauties.  The  sun  still  shone  on  the 
winter  whiteness  of  the  majestic  mountains;  the  great 
arch  of  sky  was  still  an  azure  blue;  the  wild  things 
still  roamed  the  great  forest  at  will. 

Life  indeed  was  very  beautiful. 

Minutes  passed  and  still  the  Girl  wept. 

A  wonderful  thing  happened  then  —  and  as  sud- 
denly as  it  was  characteristic  of  these  impulsive  and 
tender-hearted  men.  Ii  thinking  over  their  action 
long  afterwards  the  Girl  recalled  how  for  an  instant 
she  could  believe  neither  her  ears  nor  her  eyes. 
With  Sonora  it  was  credible,  at  least;  but  with 
Ranee  —  it  seemed  wonderful  to  her  even  when 
observed  through  the  vista  of  many  years.  And  yet, 
men  like  Ranee  more  often  than  not  exhibit  to  the 
world  the  worst  side  of  their  nature.  It  is  only 
when  some  cataclysm  of  feeling  bursts  that  their  in- 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      337 

ner  soul  is  disclosed  and  joyously  viewed  by  eyes 
which  have  long  been  accustomed  to  judging  them 
solely  from  the  icy  and  impenetrable  reserve  which 
they  invariably  wear. 

And  so  it  came  about  that  Sonora  —  first  of  the 
two  —  went  over  to  her  and  laid  an  affectionate  hand 
upon  her  shoulder. 

"Why,  Girl,"  he  said,  all  the  kindliness  of  his 
gentle  nature  flooding  his  eyes,  "  the  boys  an'  me  ain't 
perhaps  realised  jest  what  Johnson  stood  for  you,  an' 
hearin'  what  you  said,  an'  seein'  you  prayin'  over  the 
cuss  — " 

Ranee's  face  lit  up  scornfully. 

"  The  cuss?  "  he  cut  in,  objecting  to  a  term  which 
is  not  infrequently  used  affectionately. 

"  Yes,  the  cuss,"  repeated  Sonora,  all  the  vindic- 
tiveness  gone  from  his  heart  now.  "  I  got  an  idee 
maybe  God's  back  of  this  'ere  game." 

The  Girl's  heart  was  beating  fast;  she  was  hoping 
against  hope  when,  a  moment  later,  she  asked: 

"  You're  not  goin'  to  pull  the  rope  on  'im?  " 

"  You  mean  I  set  him  free,"  came  from  Ranee, 
his  tone  softer,  gentler  than  anyone  had  heard  it  in 
some  time. 

"You  set  'im  free?"  repeated  the  Girl,  timidly, 
and  not  daring  to  meet  his  gaze. 

"  I  let  him  go,"  announced  the  Sheriff  in  spite  of 
himself. 


338      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

"  You  let  'im  go?  "  questioned  the  Girl,  still  In  a 
daze. 

"  That's  our  verdict,  an'  we're  prepared  to  back 
it  up,"  declared  Sonora  with  a  smile  on  his  weathered 
face,  though  the  tears  streamed  down  his  cheeks. 

The  Girl's  face  illumined  with  a  great  joy.  She 
did  not  stop  now  to  dissipate  the  tears  which  she  saw 
rolling  down  Sonera's  face,  as  was  her  wont  when 
any  of  the  boys  were  grieved  or  distressed,  but  fairly 
flew  out  of  the  cabin,  calling  half-frantically,  half-ec- 
statically : 

"Dick!  Dick!  You're  free!  You're  free! 
You're  free  .  .  .!" 

The  minutes  passed  and  still  the  miners  did  not 
move.  They  stood  with  an  air  of  solemnity  gazing 
silently  at  one  another.  Only  too  well  did  they  real- 
ise what  was  happening  to  them.  They  were 
inconsolable.  Presently,  Sonora,  all  in  a  heap  on  a 
bench,  took  out  some  tobacco  and  began  to  chew 
it  as  fast  as  his  mouth  would  let  him ;  Happy,  going 
over  to  the  teacher's  desk,  picked  up  the  bunch  of  ber- 
ries which  he  had  presented  her  at  the  opening  of  the 
school  session  and  began  to  fondle  them ;  while  Trin- 
idad, too  overcome  to  speak,  stood  leaning  against  the 
door,  gazing  sadly  in  the  direction  that  the  Girl  had 
taken.  As  for  Ranee,  after  calling  to  Nick  to  bring 
him  a  drink,  he  quietly  brought  out  a  pack  of  cards 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      339 

from  his  pocket  and,  seemingly,  became  absorbed  in 
a  game  of  solitaire. 

A  little  while  later,  his  eyes  still  red  from  weeping, 
Nick  remarked: 

"  The  Polka  won't  never  be  the  same,  boys  —  the 
Girl's  gone." 


XVIII 

THE  soft  and  velvety  blackness  of  night  was  giving 
place  to  a  pearly  grey,  and  the  feathery  streaks  of  a 
trembling  dawn  were  shooting  heavenward  when  a 
man,  whose  head  had  been  pillowed  on  a  Mexican 
saddle,  rose  from  the  ground  in  front  of  a  tepee,  made 
of  blankets  on  crossed  sticks,  and  seated  himself  on 
an  old  tree-stump  where  he  proceeded  to  light  a  ciga- 
rette. 

In  the  little  tepee,  sheltered  by  an  overhanging 
rock,  the  Girl  was  still  sleeping;  and  the  man,  sitting 
opposite  the  mound  of  earth  and  rock  on  which  it  was 
built,  was  Johnson. 

A  week  had  passed  since  the  lovers  had  left  Cloudy 
Mountain,  and  each  day,  at  the  moment  when  the  sun 
burst  above  the  snow-capped  mountains,  found  them 
up  and  riding  slowly  eastward.  No  attempt  what- 
ever was  made  at  haste,  but,  instead,  now  climbing 
easily  to  the  top  of  the  passes,  now  descending  into 
the  valleys,  they  rode  slowly  on,  ever  loathe  to  leave 
behind  them  the  great  forests  and  high  mountains. 

Noon  of  each  day  found  them  always  resting  in 
some  glen  where  the  sun  made  golden  lace-work  of 
the  branches  over  their  heads ;  while  at  the  approach 
of  night  when  the  great  orb  was  no  longer  to  be  seen 
through  the  tree-tops  and  twilight  was  fast  settling 
34C 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      341 

upon  the  woods,  they  would  halt  near  a  pool  of  a 
dancing  brook  where,  with  the  relish  of  fatigue,  they 
would  partake  of  their  rations;  and  then,  when  the 
silences  came  ort,  Johnson  would  proceed  to  put  up 
with  loving  skill  the  Girl's  rude  quarters  and,  stretch- 
ing himself  out  on  a  gentle  slope,  covered  with  pine 
needles  matted  close  together,  the  man  and  the  Girl 
would  go  to  sleep  listening  to  the  music  of  the  stream 
as  it  gurgled  and  dashed  along,  foaming  and  leaping,, 
over  the  rocks  and  beneath  the  little  patches  of  snow 
forgotten  by  the  sun.  And  to  these  two,  whether  in 
the  depths  of  the  vast  forest  or,  as  now,  at  the  edge  of 
the  merciless  desert,  stretching  away  like  a  world 
without  end,  their  environment  seemed  nothing  less 
than  a  paradise. 

There  were  moments,  however,  in  the  long  days, 
which  could  be  devoted  to  reflection ;  and  often  John- 
son pondered  over  the  strange  fate  that  had  brought 
him  under  the  influence  —  an  influence  which  held 
him  now  and  which  he  earnestly  prayed  would  con- 
tinue to  hold  him  —  and  into  close  relationship  with 
a  character  so  different  from  his  own.  A  contempla- 
tion of  his  past  life  was  wholly  unnecessary,  for  the 
realisation  had  come  to  him  that  it  was  her  personal- 
ity alone  that  had  awakened  his  dormant  sense  of 
what  was  right  and  what  was  wrong,  and  changed 
the  course  of  his  life.  That  his  future  was  full  of 
possibilities,  evil  as  well  as  good,  he  was  only  too 


342     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

well  aware;  nevertheless,  his  faith  in  himself  was 
that  of  a  strong  man  whose  powers  of  resistance,  in 
this  case,  would  be  immeasurably  strengthened  by  con- 
stant association  with  a  stronger  character. 

It  was  while  he  was  in  the  midst  of  these  thoughts 
that  the  Girl,  without  letting  him  see  her,  quietly 
drew  the  blankets  of  the  tepee  a  little  to  one  side  and 
peered  out  at  him.  She,  too,  had  not  been  without 
her  moments  of  meditation.  Not  that  she  regretted 
for  an  instant  that  she  had  committed  herself  to  him 
irrevocably  but,  rather,  because  she  feared  lest  he 
should  find  it  difficult  to  detach  himself,  soul  and 
body,  from  the  adventurous  life  he  had  been  lead- 
ing. Such  painful  communings,  however,  were  rare 
and  quickly  dismissed  as  unworthy  of  her;  and  now 
as  she  looked  at  him  with  faith  and  joy  in  her  eyes,  it 
seemed  to  her  that  never  before  had  she  seen  him 
appear  so  resolute  and  strong,  and  she  rejoiced  that 
he  belonged  to  her.  At  the  thought  a  blush  spread 
over  her  features,  and  it  was  not  until  she  had  drawn 
the  blankets  back  into  their  place  that  she  called  from 
behind  them : 

"  Are  you  awake,  Dick?  " 

At  the  sound  of  her  voice  the  man  quickly  arose 
and,  going  over  to  the  tepee,  he  parted  the  blankets 
and  held  them  open.  And  even  as  she  passed  out 
the  greyness  of  dawn  was  replaced  by  silver,  and 
silver  by  pink  tints  which  lighted  up  the  pale  green 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST     343 

of  the  sage  brush,  the  dwarf  shrubs  and  clumps  of 
Buffalo  grass  around  them  as  well  as  the  darker 
green  of  the  pines  and  hemlocks  of  the  foothills  in 
the  near  distance. 

"  Another  day,  Girl,"  he  said  softly.  "  See,  the 
dawn  is  breaking  I  " 

For  some  moments  they  stood  side  by  side  in 
silence,  the  man  thinking  of  the  future,  the  woman 
serenely  happy  and  lost  in  admiration  of  the  calm 
beauty  of  the  scene  which,  in  one  direction,  at  least, 
differed  greatly  from  anything  that  she  had  ever  be- 
held. Every  night  previous  to  the  one  just  passed 
they  had  encamped  in  the  great  forests;  but  now 
they  looked  upon  a  vast  expanse  of  level  plain  which, 
to  the  north  and  east,  stretched  trackless  and  un- 
broken by  mountain  or  ravine  to  an  infinitude  —  the 
boundless  prairies  soon  to  be  mellowed  and  turned 
to  a  golden  brown  by  the  shafts  of  a  burning  sun 
already  just  below  the  edge  of  an  horizon  aglow  with 
opaline  tints. 

The  Girl  had  ever  been  a  lover  of  nature.  All 
her  life  the  mystery  and  silences  of  the  high  moun- 
tains had  appealed  to  her  soul;  but  never  until  now 
had  she  realised  the  marvellous  beauty  and  glory  of 
the  great  plains.  And  yet,  though  her  eyes  shone 
with  the  wonder  of  it  all,  there  was  an  unmistakably 
sad  and  reminiscent  note  in  the  voice  that  presently 
murmured : 


344     GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

"  Another  day." 

After  a  while,  and  as  if  under  the  spall  of  some 
unseen  power,  she  slowly  turned  and  faced  the  west 
where  she  gazed  long  and  earnestly  at  the  panorama 
of  the  snow-capped  peaks,  rising  range  after  range, 
all  tipped  with  dazzling  light. 

"Oh,  Dick,  look  back!"  she  cried  in  distress. 
"  The  foothills  are  growin'  fainter."  She  paused, 
but  suddenly  with  a  far-off  look  in  her  eyes  she  went 
on :  "  Every  dawn  —  every  dawn  they'll  be  farther 
away.  Some  night  when  I'm  goin'  to  sleep  I'll  turn 
an'  they  won't  be  there  —  red  an'  shinin'."  Again 
she  paused  as  if  almost  overwhelmed  with  emotion, 
saying  at  length  with  a  deep  sigh :  "  Oh,  that  was 
indeed  the  promised  land !  " 

Johnson  was  greatly  moved.  It  was  some  time 
before  he  found  his  voice.  At  length  he  chided  her 
softly : 

"  We  must  always  look  ahead,  Girl  —  not  back- 
wards. The  promised  land  is  always  ahead." 

It  was  perhaps  strange  that  the  Girl  failed  to  see 
the  new  light  —  the  light  that  reflected  his  desire 
for  a  cleaner  life  and  an  honoured  place  in  another 
community  with  her  ever  at  his  side  —  the  hope  and 
faith  in  his  eyes  as  he  spoke ;  but  still  in  that  sad, 
reminiscent  mood,  with  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  dim 
distances,  she  failed  to  see  it,  though  she  replied  in 
a  voice  of  resignation : 


GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST      345 

"Always  ahead  —  yes,  it  must  be."  And -then 
again  with  tears  in  her  eyes:  "But,  Dick,  all  the 
people  there  in  Cloudy,  how  far  off  they  seem  now 
—  like  shadows  movin'  in  a  dream  —  like  shadows 
I've  dreamt  of.  Only  a  few  days  ago  I  clasped  their 
hands  —  I  seen  their  faces  —  their  dear  faces  — 
I  — "  She  broke  off;  then  while  the  tears  streamed 
down  her  cheeks :  "  An'  now  they're  fadin' —  in  this 
little  while  I've  lost  'em  —  lost  'em." 

"  But  through  you  all  my  old  life  has  faded  away. 
.  .  .  I  have  lost  that.  .  .  ."  And  so  say- 
ing he  stretched  out  his  arms  towards  her;  but  very 
gently  she  waved  him  back  with  a  murmured : 

"Not  yet!" 

For  a  little  while  longer  her  gaze  remained  on 
the  mountains  in  the  west.  The  mist  was  still  over 
her  eyes  when  she  turned  again  and  saw  that  the  sun 
was  clearing  the  horizon  in  opulent  splendour. 

"  See,"  she  cried  with  a  quick  transition  of  mood, 
"  the  sun  has  risen  in  the  East  —  far  away  —  fair 
an'  clear !  " 

Again  Johnson  held  out  his  arms  to  her. 

"  A  new  day  —  a  new  life  —  trust  me,  Girl." 

In  silence  she  slipped  one  hand  into  his;  then  she 
bowed  her  head  and  repeated  solemnly: 

"  Yes  —  a  new  life." 

Suddenly  she  drew  a  little  away  from  him  and 
faced  the  west  again.  Clinging  tightly  now  to  him 


346      GIRL  OF  THE  GOLDEN  WEST 

with  one  hand,  and  the  other  raised  high  above  her 
head,  she  cried  in  a  voice  that  was  fraught  with  such 
passionate  longing  that  the  man  felt  himself  stirred 
to  the  very  depths  of  his  emotions: 

"  Oh,  my  mountains,  I'm  leavin'  you  1  Oh,  my 
California  —  my  lovely  West  —  my  Si'erras,  I'm 
leavin'  you !  "  She  ended  with  a  sob ;  but  the  next 
moment  throwing  herself  into  Johnson's  arms  she 
snuggled  there,  murmuring  lovingly:  "Oh,  my 
home!  " 

A  little  while  later,  happy  in  their  love  and  fear- 
lessly eager  to  meet  the  trials  of  the  days  to  come 
in  a  new  country,  they  had  mounted  their  mustangs 
and  were  riding  eastward. 


ZANE  GREY'S  NOVELS 

May  be  had  wherever  books  are  sold.        Ask  for  Srotset  &  Dtinlap's  list 
THE  LIGHT  OF  WESTERN  STARS 

A  New  York  society  girl  buys  a  ranch  which  becomes  the  center  of  frontier  war- 
fare. Her  loyal  superintendent  rescues  her  when  she  is  captured  by  bandits.  A 
surprising:  climax  brings  the  story  to  a  delightful  close. 

THE  RAINBOW  TRAIL 

The  story  of  a  young:  clergyman  who  becomes  a  wanderer  in  the  great  western 
uplands— until  at  last  love  and  faith  awake. 

DESERT  GOLD 

The  story  describes  the  recent  uprising:  alone  the  border,  and  ends  with  the  finding 
of  the  gold  which  two  prospectors  had  willed  to  the  girl  who  is  the  story's  heroine. 

RIDERS  OF  THE  PURPLE  SAGE 

A  picturesque  romance  of  Utah  of  some  forty  years  ago  when  Mormon  authority 
ruled.  The  prosecution  of  Jane  Withersteen  is  the  theme  of  the  story. 

THE  LAST  OF  THE  PLAINSMEN 

This  is  the  record  of  a  trip  which  the  author  took  with  Buffalo  Jones,  known  as  the 
preserver  of  the  American  bison,  across  th^  Arizona  desert  and  of  a  hunt  im  "that 
wonderful  country  of  d«ep  canons  and  giant  pines." 

THE  HERITAGE  OF  THE  DESERT 


A  lovely  girl,  who  has  been  reared  among:  Mormons,  learns  to  love  a  young:  New 
Englander.  The  Mormon  religion,  however,  demands  that  the  girl  shall  become 
the  second  wife  of  one  of  the  Mormons— Well,  that's  the  problem  of  this  great  story- 

THE  SHORT  STOP 

The  young-  hero,  tiring:  of  his  factory  grind,  starts  out  to  win  fame  and  fortune  as 
a  professional  ball  player.  His  hard  knocks  at  the  start  are  followed  by  such  success 
as  clean  sportsmanship,  courage  and  honesty  ought  to  win. 

BETTY  ZANE 

This  story  tells  of  the  bravery  and  heroism  of  Betty,  the  beautiful  young  sister  of 
old  Colonel  Zane,  one  of  the  bravest  pioneers. 

THE  LONE  STAR  RANGER 

After  killing  a  man  in  self  defense,  Buck  Duane  becomes  an  outlaw  along  the 
Texas  border.  In  a  camp  on  the  Mexican  side  of  tae  river,  he  finds  a  young  girl  held 
prisoner,  and  in  attempting  to  rescue  her,  brings  down  upon  himself  the  wrath  of  her 
captors  and  henceforth  is  hunted  on  one  side  by  honest  men,  on  the  other  by  outlaws. 

THE  BORDER  LEGION 

Joan  Randle,  in  a  spirit  of  anger,  sent  Jim  Cleve  out  to  a  lawless  Western  mining 

Ep,  to  prove  his  mettie.    Then  realizing  that  she  loved  him— she  followed  him  out. 
her  way,  she  is  captured  by  a  bandit  band,  and  trouble  begins  when  she  shoots 
Is,  the  leader— and  nurses  him  to  health  again.     Here  enters  another  romance- 
when  Joan,  disguised  as  an  outlaw,  observes  Jim,  in  the  throes  of  dissipation.  A  gold 
Strike,  a  thrilling:  robberv  -  gambling  and  gun  play  carry  you  along-  breathlessly. 


THE   LAST  OF  THE  GREAT  SCOUTS, 

By  Helen  Cody  Wetmore  and  Zane  Grey 

The  life  story  of  Colonel  William  F.  Cody,  "  Buffalo  Bill,"  as  told  by  his  sister  and 
Zane  Grey.  Itbezins  with  his  boyhood  in  Iowa  and  his  first  encounter  with  an  In- 
dian. We  see  "Bill"  as  a 'pony  express  rider,  then  near  Fort  Suniter  as  Chief  of 
the  Scouts,  and  later  engaged  in  thj  most  dangerous  Indian  campaigns.  There  is 
also  a  very  interesting  account  of  the  travels  of  "The  Wild  West"  Show.  No  char- 
acter In  public  life  makes  a  stronger  appeal  to  the  imagination  of  America  than 
"  Buffalo  Bill."  whose  daring  and  bravery  made  him  famous.  

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,        PUBLISHERS,         NEW  YORK 


THE  NOVELS  OF 

WINSTON  CHURCHILL 

THE  INSIDE  OF  THE  CUP.     Illustrated  by  Howard  files' 

The  Reverend  John  Hodder  is  called  to  a  fashionable  church  m 
a  middle-western  city.  He  knows  little  of  modern  problems  and  in 
his  theology  is  as  orthodox  as  the  rich  men  who  control  his  church 
could  desire.  But  the  facts  of  modern  life  are  thrust  upon  him;  an 
awakening  follows  and  in  the  end  he  works  out  a  solution. 
A  FAR  COUNTRY.  Illustrated  by  Herman  Pfeifer. 

This  novel  is  concerned  with  big  problems  of  the  day.    As  Th*. 
Inside  of  the  Cup  gets  down  to  the  essentials  in  its  discussion  of  re- 
ligion, so  A  Far  Country  deals  in  a  story  that  is  intense  and  dra- 
matic, with  other  vital  issues  confronting  the  twentieth  century. 
A  MODERN  CHRONICLE.    Illustrated  by  J.  H.  Gardner  Soper. 

This,  Mr.   Churchill's  first  great  presentation  of  the  Eternal 
Feminine,  is  throughout  a  profound  study  of  a  fascinating  young 
American  woman.    It  is  frankly  a  modern  love  story. 
MR.  CREWE'S  CAREER.     lilos.  by  A.  I.  Keller  and  Kinneys. 

A  new  England  state  is  under  the  political  domination  of  a  rail- 
way and  Mr.  Crewe,  a  millionaire,  seizes  a  moment  when  the  cause 
of  the  people  is  being  espoused  by  an  ardent  young  attorney,  to  fur- 
ther his  own  interest  in  a  political  way.  The  daughter  of  the  rail- 
way president  plays  no  small  part  in  the  situation, 
THE  CROSSING.  Illustrated  by  S.  Adamson  and  L.  BayL 

Describing  the  battle  of  Fort  Moultrie,  the  blazing  of  the  Ken- 
tucky wilderness,  the  expedition  of  Clark  and  his  handful  of  follow- 
ers in  Illinois,  the  beginning  of   civilization  along  the  Ohio  and 
Mississippi,  and  the  treasonable  schemes  against  Washington. 
CONISTON.    Illustrated  by  Florence  Sccvel  Shinn. 

A  deft  blending  of  love  and  politics.    A  New  Englander  is  the 
hero,  a  crude  man  who  rose  to  political  prominence  by  his  own  pow- 
ers, and  then  surrendered  all  for  the  love  of  a  woman. 
THE  CELEBRITY.    An  episode. 

An  inimitable  bit  of  comedy  describing  an  interchange  of  per- 
sonalities   between  a  celebrated  author  and  i>  bicycle  salesman.    II 
is  the  purest,  keenest  fun — and  is  American  to  the  core. 
THE  CRISIS.     Illustrated  with  scenes  from  ihe  Photo- Play. 

A  book   that  presents  the  great  crisis  in  our  national  life  witl 
splendid  power  and  with  a  sympathy,  a  sincerity,  and  a  patriotism 
teat  are  inspiring. 
RICHARD  CARVEL.    Illustrated  by  Malcolm  Frazer. 

An  historical  novel  which  gives  a  real  and  vivid  picture  of  Co- 
lonial times,  and  is  good,  clean,  spirited  reading  in  al)  its  phases  and 
interesting  throughout. 

GROSSET  &  DUNLAP,      PUBLISHERS,     NEW  YORK 


•JANi 


DEC  1  3  2MK> 


THE  LIBRARY 

TOttVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNU 
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